Trust me
by melles
Summary: Elizabeth said once, "Neal is a lot of things. But when it counts, you can trust him." Now, can you? This time Peter is the one in danger and Neal is the one to rescue him. Not the other way around. Peter's stuck in a dangerous situation and Neal isn't familiar with it.
1. Chapter 1

**TRUST ME**

**A/N: **Hey there! I'm back!There it goes...my second "White Collar" fan fic! First, and most important, I want to thank Rainey13 for her amazing help with this one. Again. This may sound like a little bit lame, since I've said it before, but the truth is: She made sure that the story makes sense and helped me more than once so that I could portray the characters correctly. (I'm sorry for all the wrong spellings and grammar, though. And this time there was so much more to read!). You did a fantastic job! Thank you very much. I owe you one (or two).

**Chapter 1**

The ringing of his cell phone jolted Neal awake. He had been busy working hard on a new mortgage fraud case. At least he pretended to do so. Shuffling papers around and drawing some sketches. In reality he was bored. Really bored. And tired. Peter had him picked up at June's at 7 am sharp and had told him about the plans for today. Neal really had hoped for an interesting day to come. The weather forecast said something about a sunny day. It would be a nice change since it had been raining since Friday. Not that he didn't like the rain. There were several things he loved to do when it was raining outside. Going to museums, reading a good book and enjoying an excellent wine in the meantime. But there were other things also that he didn't like to do in the pouring rain. Such as stepping out of a surveillance truck in order to buy food and coffee. Or simply to use a restroom. Also it had been a very long and exhausting weekend and they came home last night, or better said this morning with just a couple of hours left before they had to be back in the office again. On the way to the bureau Neal had learned that Peter was going to a trial while he was supposed to work at files. Which hadn't sounded very interesting. Looking at the caller ID, Neal grinned. "Peter! How's it going?"

_"We're taking a break right now. The jury is still deliberating."_

"Uh-uh. Thrilling." Neal leaned back in the chair. "So this means it still could take a while. The wheels of justice are grinding slowly. Really slowly. It's quarter past eleven."

_"Won't be much longer, don't worry. I'll be back soon."_

"Yeah, that's what you told me this morning. And now I'm stuck at the bureau, doing paperwork."

_"That's how it works, Neal. Bureaucracy thrives on paperwork."_

Sighing, Neal closed his eyes. "That's how it works for FBI-Agents. I'm not an…"

_"Stop it. You'll do what you've been told."_

"The weather is just too good to spend most of it in a boring FBI office," he tried again. "Can't I just work outside?"Although he knew Peter couldn't see him, he flashed a cheeky grin.

_"You just want to hang around."_

"Oh c'mon Peter!" Neal pouted. "We worked the whole last weekend! Can't you show at least a little bit of...," he looked around at the office, making sure the others were out of earshot, "…appreciation?"

_"Appreciation? You want appreciation? What for? For giving me headaches? You almost ruined the case."_

"Yeah, but I'd like to point out that the important word here is 'almost'. I had to change the speech a little bit. And it worked out. So what?" His frustration was audible in his voice. "I did a good job. I mean…I couldn't go with: 'Oh, I can't answer that, because my partner says I have to stick to the plan. Speaking of- did I already mention that my partner is with the FBI?'" Neal waited for a few seconds, but Peter didn't reply and apparently enjoyed this banter way too much. It wouldn't be easy to convince him. But Neal knew better and added, "It was obviously a mistake to think you would appreciate it," he mumbled disappointed and let out a deep sigh.

There was silence at the other end of the line for a moment. _"Alright. You can take a break and go outside."_

Immediately Neal's head went up. He was beaming. "So you are giving me the rest for the day off?"

_"Of course not!"_

Great. So much for working overtime and getting a day off. _Hope dies last_, Neal thought. It would have been nice to go at a nearby café. It was almost as Peter had read his mind, because he could hear his reply soon after.

_"Don't let Hughes know that you just hung out at a café. If he asks, you were meeting an informant, okay?"_

That felt creepy, but Neal wouldn't let his chance slip. "Just call me when you're finished in court and I'll be there," he nodded and tried not to sound too cheerfully. "I'll even buy you a coffee after you're done." His boyish grin appeared on his face. "Maybe even a sandwich." _But surely not one with deviled ham._

_"Oh, I'm flattered."_

* * *

Peter grinned and looked around. He stood alone at one of the hallways of the courthouse. It didn't surprise him that Neal had tried to escape from the bureau - and that he finally succeeded. But he didn't mind. He had seen the tiredness on the face of the former con man this morning when he had picked him up and replayed the conversation in his mind.

"What's this trial all about?" Neal had wanted to know after he had been informed that Peter was expected to show up at the courthouse today.

"Remember the surveillance we did while on the Taylor case? Two, no three months ago?" he had started to explain.

Neal had frowned and cut in, sounding confused. "Yes, but…I don't get it. The case is still open. We weren't able to arrest any of them. Yet."

"That's right. But the hearing isn't about the Taylor case. If you hadn't interrupted me I would have mentioned that," he had told his partner and waited for a moment.

Holding his hands up in defeat, Neal had replied, "Go ahead. I'm all ears."

If Neal thought that he had done this on purpose, so Peter was able to lecture him, then Neal had been right. He had continued, "Okay, while you were inside the building, something came up. I noticed something unusual just across the street and a few moments later I knew the guy had been robbing the bank. Called the police, took notes and pictures. You'll know what I mean. It was out of my responsibility and I'm with the FBI not the police. So after I'd made the call, the police showed up a few minutes later. End of story."

Neal had looked at his partner with his head tilted to the left side. He had slowly raised his hand like a child in class who wanted to know something. "Uh, even at the risk of getting one of those nasty looks from you once more, but - what the hell is the trial about?"

Peter had enjoyed their conversation. "The police caught the robber and since I was one of the eye-witnesses, they talked to me. I gave them all I got - my notes and the photos as well as my statement. I really thought that would be it. But then, about 4 weeks ago I received a call from the police officer in charge and was asked to repeat my statement in court. And that's what I'll be doing today."

Neal had closed his eyes and shook his head and obviously had fought the urge to roll with his eyes. "Geez, couldn't you just say…I don't know…," he had shrugged his shoulders, "…maybe something like 'I need to be in court to testify because I'm an eye-witness'?"

Laughing, Peter had said, "But that wouldn't have been so funny."

"Oh yeah, I've already noticed that," Neal had mumbled and looked at the FBI building in front of them, trying hard to suppress a yawn. The lack of sleep had been clearly shown in his face.

Coming back to the present, Peter stretched his back a bit while he slowly walked down the aisle. "So, everything okay in the office?"

_"Sure. Why are you asking, Peter?"_

"Just out of curiosity?"

_"I'm guarded by Diana. What I'm supposed to do? Anything other than the paperwork I mean."_

"And then why do I have this odd feeling that there's something going on otherwise?" Peter stood at a large window and looked outside, watching the people on the street down below. This conversation was a welcomed distraction and so he enjoyed talking to Neal.

_"Yeah well, you got me. We're throwing a party right now. People, quit dancing around. Oh, and someone has to tell Hughes that the beer has run out. I vote for Jones."_

Chuckling, Peter shook his head while he listened to Neal. Somehow he admired his friend for his ability to act childish and still get away with it. Thinking about the last weekend and how much Neal really had applied himself into the case he realized that his co-worker deserved a break and he gave in. Neal had done a good job but nevertheless Peter hoped that the younger man would get the hint. He really hoped that Neal would realize that he needed to stay out of trouble. That he needed to learn to play by the rules. "Just make sure you're back in time, okay?" As soon as he had said those words, he could have sworn that Neal's face brightened up, although he couldn't see him.

_"Sounds like a plan to me. Thanks Peter."_

The bailiff approached him and spoke quietly to him. Peter nodded and then turned his attention to Neal again. "I've been notified that the jury has reached a verdict."

_"See you later."_

Peter hung up the phone and followed the bailiff back to the courtroom because he wanted to be there for the announcement.

_TBC…_


	2. Chapter 2

**TRUST ME**

**A/N:** Wow, thank you so much for all your reviews, as well as for the story and author alerts! I really, really appreciate it and they make my day! Now, I think it's time to start the real deal…are you ready to rumble?

**Chapter 2**

A few blocks away, Neal sat at a table at a small café, simply enjoying the day with a perfect brewed coffee as well as a freshly baked croissant. The day hadn't started too pleasant being faced with tons of paperwork and observed by Diana. That woman sometimes scared him, but at the same time he was glad of her loyalty towards the team. He smiled at the brunette sitting at the table next to him as he took the newspaper. The brunette continued flirting with him and he tipped on the rim of his Fedora as he looked to the woman again and winked. Maybe this day wasn't so bad at all.

* * *

Peter entered the courtroom and took a seat with the other people in the auditorium. Because this was a trial of a fairly small-time criminal it didn't actually have a huge audience. He was used to observing and he couldn't resist estimating his surroundings. Letting his eyes wander around he noticed that most of the people had left. Maybe they found this case too boring and unspectacular, but he was willing to stay.

The defendant, Michael Jenkins, didn't make an intelligent impression and carelessly slouched in the chair next to his lawyer. Either it was an act to make it seem like he was unconcerned or he really hadn't realized that he was close to a conviction. Even his lawyer didn't necessarily seem imbued with a sense of duty, because he scribbled somewhat bored on his pad. He had, in contrast to his client probably already realized that it would be useless trying to convince the judge that his client was innocent. Basically he was just waiting for the verdict, so that he could go home.

Of course, this wouldn't happen to the defendant. If convicted, a nice little cozy cell was waiting for him.

This trial was plain simple and purely routine for the staff so it seemed. However, Peter wasn't able to continue on his reflections, because the bailiff asked the people to stand up as Judge Farnsworth entered the room. After Farnsworth sat down, he told them to do the same and started to pronounce the sentence. As soon as the judge had confirmed the verdict Peter nodded and felt satisfied. Justice had triumphed again. The criminal offense wasn't as serious as a murder case, but nevertheless Jenkins had done something wrong and now he had to deal with the consequences.

As if on cue, there was a movement in the crowd. A blond man whose age Peter guessed at the mid to late twenties stood up abruptly. He walked purposefully towards the large double-leaf wooden door of the courtroom. From a bag he had slung over his shoulder, he pulled out a chain and without a word he shut the door with it.

That brought the bailiff on the scene who tried to get to the blond man as fast as possible; his hand was resting on the gun. But halfway, a few feet away from Peter's actual position, a second man suddenly stood up and stopped the bailiff with a gun drawn.

"Where do you think you're going?" said the brown-haired man without really waiting for an answer. Compared to the other guy at the door, he was about 4 inches taller and roughly 5years older. Silently he gestured to the blond man that he should close the blinds.

Immediately alarm bells rang with Peter, but he remained quietly in his place. Though he felt his heartbeat quicken, he tried to come up with a solution without getting into danger. Instinctively he reached for his weapon, only to discover that it wasn't there. He had left it in the bureau. The only things he had with him were his wallet, the cell phone, the car keys and his FBI badge. Who would have thought of such life threatening events? He certainly didn't. Immediately he thought about Elizabeth and let out a sigh.

In complete contrast to his show of coolness, the other spectators who had of course recognized the weapon as well, started to get nervous. Restlessness set in and now it was necessary to secure that the situation didn't escalate. This was noticed by the brown-haired man and he turned sideways to the people, without letting the bailiff out of sight, who was standing in front of him with his hands up in the air. Loud and clear he said, "Everyone stays in place, and then nothing will happen. Got it?"

Jenkins turned around though a little surprised but not completely flat, and then grinned. "Joey! Eddie, I knew I could rely on you," he stretched out his fist triumphantly and stood up.

"Sure, did you think we left you behind?" the taller of the two men asked good-humored. With a gesture he drew the weapon of the bailiff from the holster and stuck it in his waistband. The whole thing seemed to be lots of fun for him. Obviously with the audience around him, he enjoyed it even more. Roughly he pushed the officer toward the judge.

Somehow the scene in front of him appeared much too loose and Peter felt like being in a cheap action movie. And this impression was what caused him concern. If the two were accomplices of Jenkins, he could already tell that the trio wasn't well organized. There was a reason why Jenkins had been caught within two hours after the bank robbery and was convicted for this offense just a few minutes before. Peter looked over his shoulder at the man who guarded the door and was surprised when he now held a gun in his hands, too. _"__How __the hell were they able to bring them in here?__"_ Peter thought to himself, hoping that everybody would stay calm. Especially the armed men.

"Mickey, tie him," said the tallest one, as he watched the brown-haired man, while he led the bailiff in the back of the room. It was clear who had the say of the three, although one could argue whether that was an advantage or not.

_"__At least we __now know__who is who__,"_ Peter shook his head and rolled his eyes. _"__Maybe __we'll even get__the addresses__and__social security numbers__."_As soon as he realized his thoughts, he disciplined himself. _"I think I spend too much time with Neal."_ He had to do something. Slowly he reached into his pocket, well aware that the blond man was still behind him, just a few feet away. Taking a deep breath, Peter typed a single word because he hadn't the time to write more and pushed the "Send" button. Then, he closed his eyes for a second, relieved that no one had noticed. Now, all he could do was wait and hope that the rescue would come soon.

Michael did as he was told and used the handcuffs the bailiff wore on his belt to chain the court officer to the judge's desk. Being satisfied about his work, he went to Eddie, obviously nervous.

Eddie cuffed him on the shoulder, grinning broadly. "Hey, stay cool, dude. We have everything under control, my dear brother."

_"Wow... that__'ll be fun,"_ came to Peter's mind. So much criminal energy in a confined space didn't bode well. Despite everything he hoped for an early end, although he hadn't been able to see sense of the action yet entirely clear. Because what was going on was risky. For everyone. At least as long as everyone stayed calm in the room, no panic would appear. If not, Peter didn't even want to think about what could happen. He took a deep breath and loosened his tie knot a little bit more. Was it just him, or did the temperature increase in the room? _"I suppose__that's just the__nervousness__."_

"Everything ok with you over there, brother?" Eddie shouted across the room to Joey.

"As you see," Joey barked back immediately and felt very important, because he positioned himself squarely at the door, and gave a clear view of his gun, which he had stuck casually in his waistband - just like Eddie.

Eddie enjoyed the situation clearly and strutted in front of the judge up and down. "Well, the tables have turned, Your Honor." He sneered cockily and left no doubt that he was pleased with his current position as a spokesman.

Peter could only hope that Judge William Farnsworth knew better than to talk back and maybe irritate Eddie with his answer, so he was relieved that Farnsworth decided to stay quiet and just nodded slightly. In all the years of his activity Peter hadn't experienced anything like this before. Above all, he hadn't thought that the defendant would hatch a plan to escape. However, while he harbored doubts about the professionalism of the three men, for the moment it seemed that there was a standstill. He sat quietly on the bench and tried to assess the situation. It almost seemed to him as if the three men worked their rescue operation more or less spontaneously. Unfortunately there was no evidence that this situation would find a quick end. He still hoped that the men could be persuaded to give up by some skillful negotiation task. In fact, Peter was surprised by so much looseness and if he interpreted the facial expression of the judge correctly, then the two of them were probably thinking the same. He knew the man from earlier trials and was sure that the judge wouldn't do anything in a rash matter. Should something hectic occur in the hall, Peter believed that the Jenkins brothers probably would be overwhelmed and unpredictable. He just watched Farnsworth and for a few seconds there was direct eye contact between the two men. He silently exchanged a glance with the judge and nodded almost imperceptibly as he saw the slight movement that emanated from the man in the robe unnoticed by the others. _"__Great minds think alike."_ Briefly, a smile crossed his lips. Maybe they had a chance to get out of here soon.

_TBC_…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Again, many thanks for the reviews as well as for the alerts! You make my day! Really. Let's see what Neal is doing…

**Chapter 3**

The smile vanished from Neal's face as he looked at the message he just got. The message came from Peter. It was simply one word, but he understood the meaning of it instantly. Something was terribly wrong. He looked a second time at the small touch screen.

_SOS_

Within seconds, he paid the bill and stood up. He needed to get to the courthouse real fast and he needed to get in touch with the rest of the team. "Jones? It's Neal. Just got a message from Peter. There must be something going on in the courtroom. Can you check with the police? I'm on my way," he told his colleague while he was running, his hat in one hand, and the cell phone in the other.

It didn't take long for Neal to arrive at the courthouse, but still he had to breathe in deeply a few times to gain control again. Stepping into the building, nothing seemed suspicious at first sight.

One of the employees waved to him. "Sir, please leave this building. We've got - "

Neal nodded. "I already know. I'm with the FBI. Listen, where's the Jenkins trial?"

Caught by surprise, the man blinked a few times before he answered: "I-it's on the second floor. West wing." He looked fearfully. "Do... you…really think that there's something wrong in there?"

"Yes, I think so. Please get the people out, but stay put. Okay?" His cell phone buzzed and he took the call.

_"I've just got new information. Police confirmed...,"_ Jones began slowly, _"that there must be a hostage situation in court. The judge has pushed the silent alarm…The security team in the courthouse is already informed."_ He hesitated before he asked, _"Is Peter still there?"_

"Yes." It took some time for Neal before the meaning of the words had gotten through to him, but even now it was hard to understand. This was reality. Peter was in danger and he needed his help. His stomach started to get tense. He had an odd feeling. "What about the police?"

_"The __first units__ are __already __on the way__, and so is __the SWAT __team__. __The problem is that __nobody __knows __exactly __what __is__going on right now__,"_ Jones said with a slight sigh.

"Then we have to figure it out," Neal said bluntly.

_"Caffrey, don't do something stupid. You hear me? We are on the way. Stay out of trouble."_

"Who? Me?" he replied as he entered the second floor. "You're starting to sound like Peter," he said. He could see one uniformed man standing there, who was looking around the corner. Neal stopped, glancing at both directions. Obviously no one else was there. That was good. The fewer people, the less danger. "You better get here soon, Jones."

* * *

"Who are you?"

Neal nearly jumped. He had been so busy talking to Jones that he hadn't noticed that the security officer had approached him. After disconnecting the call, he showed him his consultant ID and said, "I'm Neal Caffrey. I work with the FBI."

"FBI?" The man raised his eyebrow. "We didn't call the FBI."

"My partner is in there. He sent me a message. Is there any other way in?"

"There is a second access through the judges' chambers. But I don't think that's an option," the man shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, there's no hiding space at all. You'll go through the door and enter the courtroom. Everybody in there can see you immediately."

Not quite the answer Neal had hoped for. Carefully he pushed himself against the wall and peeked around the corner, unsure what to do next.

Within minutes, two police officers joined them as well as a SWAT-Team who immediately got into command. Instantly, Jones and Diana rushed towards them and joined the discussion.

Neal stepped closer to them and listened.

"Difficult task," the SWAT member with a name tag that read "FULTON" came straight down to business, while he talked with his second in command. "We don't really know what's going on in there. The security measures were minimal; no one expected such a thing."

The second SWAT man - his name tag read "GETTY" - explained, "Until now there was no exchange of fire, but I strongly believe that the perpetrators are armed. Otherwise it wouldn't have come to a silent alarm."

Neal nodded as he listened to every word carefully. "Basically," he said, "we know only one thing - Peter's in there."

Fulton nodded. "Anyway. Let's go to work." After he had learned that Neal wasn't even a trained agent, he was about to shut out Neal completely. Only because Jones and Diana had objected he had given in, but ignored Neal from then on.

"What are you going to do?" Neal immediately asked, well aware of the uncooperative behavior. But he didn't mind. All he cared about was the welfare of his friend.

"We will try to make contact. But first we will turn the heat up, so they will get warm inside. Standard procedure." Fulton sounded a bit snooty and it was clear that he didn't like having Neal around.

* * *

Meanwhile, about 30 minutes had passed since the Jenkins brothers had started their kidnapping and the people in the room began to grow restless. The atmosphere was tension-loaded and Peter tried to gather as much information about the three men as possible, because sometimes that could be helpful in the later stages. Eddie seemed to be the oldest and played like the leader. The problem with him was that he acted impulsively, but his mind was pretty simple and this combination was dangerous. It was difficult to decipher his next moves. As part of a negotiation he was definitely the worst choice. Michael had been quiet since, even if his intelligence was not exactly on the highest level - so much was clear. The youngest was Joey, but Peter was a trained FBI agent and knew that you shouldn't make the mistake to be guided only by appearances. Behind the quiet facade of the youngest brother, a very different man could be hidden and therefore it was necessary to act carefully. Often, those guys were standing in the shadow of older siblings and were mostly driven by the thought that they had to prove themselves and gained for recognition. All in all, the trio was mentally quite simple, but that didn't detract from their dangerousness.

In the background, Peter believed he heard noises and carefully turned his head to have a better look. Since Joey was listening intently at the door, Peter knew that his observations were confirmed. By now there should be several police officers outside the hall taking their positions. From his perch he couldn't see if a SWAT team was already in front of the building, but his experience told him that the special unit, if it wasn't there by now, should arrive any minute.

"Something's going on out there," Joey reported as if on cue, and lifted his ear to the thick wooden panel of the door.

* * *

Using a small surveillance camera, pushed through the gap between door and floor, the SWAT-team tried to figure out what was happening in the courtroom. Unfortunately, the focus of the camera and its field of vision was restricted, so they could see only a small part. Something was definitely going on in there, because raised voices could be heard through the door.

Jones, Diana and Neal had retreated to the opposite wall, where a row of chairs stood along the aisle. Neal had placed the Fedora on a vacant stool next to him. However, the three of them were too tense as to sit down, just twiddling thumbs. It was a difficult situation for them, letting others do the job and not being able to do something on their own. Especially Neal had his problems with it, just because he didn't know much about Fulton and his working methods. But his hands were tied. Right now, the SWAT team was in command, and Fulton was the one in charge. With arms folded across his chest Neal leaned against a massive marble column and watched the man intensely, who was holding the camera with the small monitor attached to it.

Fulton took a step back and seemed to reflect.

"What's going on in there?" Neal asked, and tried to keep the situation under control, because he was forced to play along so that Fulton provided him with information. Neal was well aware that Fulton could easily throw him out, because he had no reason to be here.

"They are discussing, which is probably because they realized that they are trapped," Fulton answered with a casual tone of voice. He wasn't in the mood to explain everything to this civilian.

Inwardly cursing the man Neal, he took a deep breath. "Can you describe more precisely? Please?" He knew that he was dependent on the goodwill of his counterpart. At least right now. "Are there any weapons? How many are there? What about the hostages? "

"Quite a few questions at once," Fulton grinned sardonically and slowly turned back to the monitor.

Neal's eyes narrowed. "Should I repeat them to you?"

That caused a dirty look from Jones, who him gestured him silently, _"Watch your tongue!"_

* * *

Eddie went to the big windows. "Oh, hey... look at that ... the cops there." It seemed like it didn't matter to him. On the contrary, he was delighted. "We can start the party now," he smirked and went back to Michael.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked him immediately.

"Well, the cops are here, and so are our special guests," said Eddie, and added eye-rolling, "I mean the SWAT-team. We can teach these idiots a lesson."

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. These three men probably had no plan at all. With the heel of the hand he clutched his forehead, closed his eyes and shook his head. "That can't be true," he sighed. When he looked up, he realized that he had spoken louder than originally planned, because some of the people looked at him, including Eddie.

"What did you say?" he snapped in Peter's direction and put his hands on his hips.

_"Oops__."_ Now good advice was expensive. "I said 'this can't be true'," Peter willingly answered because he knew full well that Eddie had to have heard him the first time.

"Well, it is," Eddie went on and positioned himself in front of Peter. He made no secret of what he thought of his counterpart. Suddenly he crooked his head. "Hey! I remember you. You are the Fed!" Without hesitation he searched the pockets of Peter's jacket. "Where's your weapon?"

"I'm unarmed," Peter said. His voice was low. "As you can see." Now he was in a dilemma, because it was dangerous for him considering that the group wasn't quite fond with the law enforcement department.

A sardonic grin appeared on Eddie's face, as he pulled out the badge. "Special Agent Peter Burke," he read aloud. "Then you know exactly what they are up to out there. Very good." He poked Michael in the side. "He can bring us out." He looked at his brother. "Search the others for weapons. And cell phones. And pull the blinds down."

"Not quite. I'm with the White Collar unit." Although Peter wasn't sure if the Jenkins at all knew what he was talking about. "I'm not SWAT. I don't know what they are up to." In truth, he knew exactly what was going on, but he certainly wouldn't tell them. Eddie's demeanor simply showed that he wanted to be the boss in the ring. At least that was what Eddie believed. And right now, it was better to give him the illusion. After all, the SWAT team was there now.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**TRUST ME**

**A/N:** Thanks so much for all your kind reviews and I'm really flattered to have so many followers! Thanks again. I hope you'll stay tuned! Please let me know how I'm doing so far.

**Chapter 4**

Outside the courtroom, Fulton kept his gaze directed at the screen. "Why are you so interested in what's going inside?" He asked, and he was quite unconcerned whether he received an answer or not. Caffrey was demoted as a bystander and that was what mattered. "Oh, look at the mood in there heating up. There are at least two armed men." Fulton recognized Michael Jenkins because of his record. On the way to court, he had read all the necessary information. "The second is talking with a man in the audience. Gesturing vividly with his hands. " He hadn't been able to make out the words of the discussion, but still studied the pictures. Sometimes it was an advantage when the gangsters involved in the group start to split up. That made it easier to make one of them play off against the other. Perhaps they would be able to create such a scenario within the next hours. "Well, let them flounder a bit." He turned to Neal. "Don't you have anything to do today?" He loved it when he could play his position.

"That," Neal said softly but firmly, "shouldn't be your concern." He went on, "Your task, however, is to ensure that there will be no escalation in there."

"Are you telling me how to do my job?"

Jones quickly stepped beside Neal, blocking the view for both men for a moment. He looked at Neal, whispering, "Don't do it."

Considering his options, Neal took a step back, sighing. "No." Neal said, shaking his head. He bit back a further comment. Sullenly he watched Fulton, as he directed his team by hand signals.

In full uniform, with weapons raised, several SWAT officers flanked to both sides of the door. Fulton, wearing a bullet-proof vest and a helmet moved into position with his back pressed against the wall. He raised his hand to the side and knocked on the door. "This is Jack Fulton from the SWAT team. We want to talk to you," he called with a loud and clear voice.

Everyone listened intently.

* * *

Joey, who stood near the door, looked at his two brothers with big wondering eyes. He hadn't expected such drastic measures.

Michael too, didn't quite know how to behave and shrugged with his shoulders.

Therefore, Eddie took over. "That's nice, but we don't want to talk to you, boneheads." He made a dismissive gesture, since he didn't mind. He had all the time of the world.

Such reactions were already accustomed to the officials and Jack wasn't intimidated. He made a second attempt. "Look, we want to end this quickly and without bloodshed. Give us the opportunity to negotiate."

Eddie shook his head and put his index finger to his lips, signaling Michael and Joey not to respond. The silence that reigned in the room, pulled on the nerves of the people present, but they were too intimidated and no one dared to utter a sound. Well, all except one.

"That's makes no sense at all! What do you want to accomplish?"

Contradictory words were somewhat that Eddie hadn't expected, because at first he wasn't able to say anything. When he had found his confidence again, he said to Peter, "Shut up!" To demonstrate his power, he raised his fist.

But Peter couldn't resist a comment. "You will not succeed."

Meanwhile, Michael had joined them. "What's going on here?"

Eddie said, "This guy probably wants to be a hero." He didn't lose sight of Peter.

"No, I don't want to play a hero. But it is quite evident that you are acting haphazardly." Peter shot back defiantly.

"What do you mean?"

"How long shall we sit around here?" He asked straight out without regard to whether he was too direct. He had no desire for any games. He just wanted to end this and go home to Elizabeth as soon as possible.

Both Michael and Eddie looked at each other quizzically.

_"__I knew it."_Even though he now was fully in focus of the two, Peter couldn't prevent rolling his eyes. "A hostage situation," he began and felt like a teacher, "is there in order to make demands. Or am I wrong?" He waited a moment, but got no response. "You do have demands, don't you?"

"Yeah, sure I do. I demand that Mickey will not be convicted! "Eddie nodded.

"But this is something that will not happen. You guys have gone through the trial - the verdict is announced and can't be undone."

Eddie didn't like this answer and he got angry. "I don't care; I insist that he becomes a free man."

Michael seemed to be thinking, but didn't comment further.

Apparently Peter had found a weak point, and then tried to appeal to Eddie's limited logic. "The problem is that this action will not lead to success. You can be happy if you get out of here. Alive."

"You think you're very clever, huh?" Together with the rising temperatures in the room, the temperament from Eddie got into a high level. His tension was expressed by the fact that he repeatedly clenched his fingers into fists.

Of course Peter had noticed this, but still he was surprised about the boundless stupidity. "In any case, smarter than you are," he let out and immediately got punched in the face. The pain emanating from his cheek was intense, but he didn't show. He had experienced much worse pain conditions before like when he tore his rotator cuff upon graduating college. Nevertheless, he touched his burning cheek and licked his lips, tasting blood.

* * *

"Sir?" One of the men spoke up. "There seemed to be a dispute."

Immediately rang alarm bells with Neal, and he went on his way to the monitor without listening to the protest of Jack. When Neal was finally able to take a look at the screen, it seemed that the argument was over. He saw two men standing in the aisle in front of a man, who was positioned with his back to the door. Apparently, however, a conversation was still going on, because the two men made no move to leave. With his heart pounding, Neal tried to find Peter, but the picture was too small to make up any details. His thoughts went to calling Elizabeth, but there wasn't much he could tell her, so he decided to wait.

"Tempers are rising, which is good for us. Once they are aware that they don't have a chance to leave, we can convince them to surrender." Jack smiled slightly.

* * *

"I've said earlier that you should shut up, you son of a bitch! Who do you think you are?" Enraged, Eddie raised his hand a second time. He was about to hit Peter again, but the strike was prevented by his brother, as he held his hand.

"Stop it!" Michael pushed him aside, glared at him. "What's this all about?"

"You heard it, the wimp makes fun of me," growled Eddie still angry.

But the man was not entirely wrong, however, even if Michael would rather not admit to this in the presence of his brother. He thought for a moment. "If you're so smart - what should we do?"

Slowly this situation degenerated into a farce in Peter's eyes, but the two main actors weren't consciously aware of that. He decided to go on. "Hmm, I'm not sure - but would surrender be an option for you?"

Eddie laughed out loud. Another sign of his naiveté. "Then it would be only half the fun, don't you think?"

"This is no fun!" Peter burst out. "What do you think will happen once they know what's going on in here? Do you think they'll roll out the red carpet for you, and you can just walk away like that?"He shook his head angrily. "I can be wrong of course, but your actions don't appear like a best laid plan to me." As soon as his words were out, he heard Eddie beside him as he clearly sucked in the air.

But in his place, Michael spoke up. "We should keep calm."

Eddie was not impressed, however. "You're a Fed and they will listen to you. And you will do and say what we want. "

Also unimpressed Peter shot back, "And what if I don't?"

"Then you'll really get to know me!" Eddie threatened him and couldn't hold back his anger. With a red face, he grabbed Peter by the collar and hauled him effortlessly from the bench. "Shut up!" He yelled at him. "Shut up or I will kill you!"

In an instant Peter knew he had crossed the border with Eddie. But now it was too late. Before he could react, he made contact with the hard floor when he was thrown away by Eddie like a worn-out toy. In fact he had to admit, that Eddie was much stronger than he was.

One of the shocked men from the auditorium found enough courage to stand up and wanted to help Peter to sit up, but he froze in his movement, as a gun was pointed at him. "Back to your place!" Eddie snapped and lowered his voice, but still it was filled with hate. "You all will sit on your fucking asses! Is that clear?"

* * *

Neal was about to say something, when his blood froze his veins. He heard a voice that rang through the wooden doors.

"Shut up! Shut up or I will kill you!"

Instantly he stepped back and looked at the monitor. Now he could make out Peter and his heart skipped a beat. The larger of the two obviously had grabbed Peter at the collar and lifted him from the bench. Neal helplessly had to watch as the man probably took out his anger on Peter. "You're saying that is good for us?" Neal said angrily and turned to Jack. "Then I don't want to know what happens, if it looks bad for us," he joked, but everyone knew that it wasn't meant to be funny. "At the moment none of them are even focused on you and tell me if I'm wrong, but surrender looks different to me," he noted, and put his hands on his hips.

This emotional outburst from Caffrey made Jack briefly blink, but he quickly recovered. "Jenkins has intervened," he said tersely, "We are waiting." It was clear that he wouldn't let anyone dictate to him how he should behave. "If we do it cleverly, we can arrange that they play off against each other." Then he turned back to the screen.

* * *

Peter was defenseless as a turtle on his back and stared at his two opponents. They really had all the advantages on their side and he would have to watch out what he said or did next. In order not to provoke them further, he raised his hands up, admitting his defeat. He needed to lay low for a while. Literally.

"Well, now you're quiet, huh?" Triumphantly Eddie stood above his victim with his gun drawn. "I might blow away your brain, how do you like that?"

This was too much for Michael and he pulled his big brother's shoulders back. "Stop it now! This is bullshit," he snapped.

* * *

"Can you believe this?" Neal shook his head, as he spoke with Jones. "Why should they play off against each other? The guys are obviously there to free Jenkins. They surely have no intention to stay in that room." Neal would prefer to slap Fulton at back of his head, but he would only hurt his hand on that helmet. He stepped towards the SWAT member. "You should offer them to be allowed to get out. If they want a car, give it to them. With a GPS receiver we can easily follow..." He had plenty of experience with being tracked.

"Nobody leaves the courtroom, you understand?" Jack glared at his opponent, who simply didn't want to respect who was in charge here. "One more word and I'll have you thrown out." Or better yet, he himself would grab Caffrey and kick his butt.

"Believe it or not, sometimes violence isn't the answer. There is another way...without bloodshed." He hated guns. He really did. Weapons had never been part of his plans. The challenge was to succeed without hurting others physically.

First, Jack answered nothing, for his entire team was standing around him. "What are you up to, Caffrey?" He said with a deep, dark voice and his eyes narrowed. "You're neither SWAT nor a trained agent. Hell, you're not even with the police! If you really insist on staying here, I can tell you right here and now that I'd love to put some nice handcuffs on your wrists." He took a deep breath as he eyed Neal icily.

Jones tried to pull Neal back. He too was concerned about Peter's welfare, but he obeyed with the SWAT team. He understood the rules. With Neal here, things were different. The ex-conman didn't like to give in that easily. Nevertheless he was surprised how much Neal brought himself in. "He's right," he whispered, trying to calm his colleague. "If you don't behave, you'll end up in prison. Think about it."

"Don't you get it? He's pushing their buttons too much. Fulton doesn't control the situation in there." With his index finger Neal pointed towards the courtroom, his eyes full of emotion. "If we don't intervene, we will lose them all." His shoulders and head went down, as he tried to take deep breaths. A few seconds later, he looked up. "This is...," he shook his head and really tried to appeal to Jones, "...it's not the right way."

"Then what is the right way?" Jones wanted to know.

"I don't know yet," Neal admitted. "But if anyone knows how to talk to people, then it's me."

"As you did with Fulton?"

"That's another story," Neal mumbled and let his eyes wander around. He took a few steps, trying to get rid of the tension. When he approached Jones again, he ran his hands through his wavy hair. "Listen, I can do it. I can go inside and talk with them."

"I don't have a say in this, Caffrey," Jones shook his head and shared a look with Diana. The woman just shook her head. When he turned back, he had to gulp when he saw the pleading eyes from Neal. Sighing, he reached for his cell phone. "I can call Hughes."

_TBC…_


	5. Chapter 5

**TRUST ME**

**A/N: **Thanks to** HP4eva121995 **and** last1stnding **for the reviews! I'm glad you like the story so far. And I'm happy for all those story alerts and followers! Thank you very much! Stay tuned for more suspense and thrill to come…

**Chapter 5**

"If something goes wrong in there, you're responsible," Fulton made clear to him. A few minutes ago, he had talked with Reese Hughes over the phone and although he hadn't liked the result, Fulton was overruled. Now he stood in front of Caffrey, giving him instructions.

"That will not happen. When I see that I can't negotiate with them...you have free reign...but yes...I'll take full... responsibility." But Neal really hoped that this wouldn't end in a bad way. "After you Jack," he smiled at him and held out his hand to let him lead the way.

"Give him a vest," Jack told his people, still somewhat embarrassed that he had to cooperate with Caffrey. After all, he fulfilled his duty of care and so no one could accuse him that he had let Neal go in without any coverage. "We still have a radio that we can give him." This way, they would be able to get a sound too.

"That will not be necessary, Jack. Thank you," Neal shook his head. "Let's just pretend I'm not with the police," he smiled.

Jones nodded towards Neal and they went around the corner. "Lift your left pant leg."

Neal raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know about you, but I think it's safer if you show up without the anklet. Besides Hughes told me to remove it," he winked at his baffled friend. He reached down and removed it. When he stood up again, he looked at Neal. "Don't even think to run. Peter will find you, no matter what."

"I'm sure he will," Neal answered sincerely. "And no, I'm not gonna run."

Jones padded him on the shoulder. "Don't pull any stunts."

"Who? Me?" He used the same phrase once more. Neal flashed a quick smile, before he went serious again. "This is not about me. There are innocent people in there. Peter's in there. I won't risk their lives. Trust me."

"You still can cancel, Neal" Obviously, Jones seemed to read his mind and he came close to him, while Neal took his dark jacket off and pulled the black bulletproof vest over his blue shirt. "The situation is far from under control."

"I know that, Jones. But what are the other options?" It wasn't an easy task, but Peter was part of the family and the family didn't leave anyone behind. Reaching into his pockets, he retrieved his cell-phone as well as his wallet which he gave to Jones.

"Good luck," Jones said.

"You'll owe us coffee when this is over," Diana said, but her voice was tense.

"I promise," he nodded. "Here we go." When he heard no objection, he went to the door and knocked firmly. "This is Neal Caffrey," he announced to the floor and automatically was about to say 'consultant with the FBI' but then something else came to his mind. "I am the official representative of the governor..." When he received the questioning looks from the rest of the gang, he could only shrug his shoulders and ignored Jack's eyes rolling. "What are your demands?"

Shaking their heads, Jones and Diana grinned broadly, even if it was perhaps inappropriate compared to the currently prevailing tense situation. Amused by the designation, Jones glanced at Diana. "Looks like he invented a new alias," he murmured and took a deep breath to stop grinning.

* * *

In the room, a murmur went around when someone suddenly and unexpectedly knocked at the door. Even Peter, who had placed himself in a sitting position, flinched at the sound. Unfortunately, Eddie was still in sight and therefore he preferred to stay on the ground for the moment. With luck, the man would calm down. Despite everything he had taken off his tie and his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as the temperature continued to rise. Under the armpits and around the collar dark sweat stains started to form. The place on the back, where he was leaning against the bench, was wet, too. If it would go any longer, they probably would all die because of dehydration.

Many of the men had undressed as well, but that didn't change the fact that the mood dropped steadily while the temperature rose. Some of the men began to whisper softly at each other. The Jenkins brothers hadn't noticed yet, but Peter had. At best, they were just trying to reassure one another. At worst, they were planning a revolution. And that was something that would end in a disaster. Two of the women sobbed quietly and were immediately besieged by the others. It was better to stay quiet.

When they could then hear a voice next, Peter's head went up, because he believed that he had recognized Neal. But that wasn't possible. Or was it? He turned his head aside and listened. Then he smiled slightly. It was indeed Neal and he apparently had been promoted. _"__Official representative of the __Governor__, holy shit,"_ Peter thought. Secretly, he was relieved to hear a familiar voice, and he immediately felt a little better. But then, he hoped that Neal knew what he was talking about. Peter took a deep breath. Neal was always good for a surprise. But still he didn't know why Neal was there and acting as a mediator. This wasn't a game. Therefore he hoped that Neal knew about the high risks he was about to take. Peter eagerly awaited the response from Eddie.

Eddie looked silently around the room, trying to make a decision. "We demand that Mickey will not be punished," he announced in a loud voice, and then waited. With the back of his hand he wiped his sweaty forehead. Just like his brothers, he didn't come up with questioning the testimony of the man who identified himself as an official representative.

Neal's voice could be heard once again. "Good." Then a pause and after a moment "Then I am the right person for the job. Is the judge still there? Has he already confirmed the verdict?" he inquired and simply seemed to act on his gut instinct.

The answer didn't take long. "Yes, yes," Eddie grumbled. "The judge is still here, and so are the others. And he has already confirmed the verdict, but we don't accept it."

"Okay...well, how about if you let the hostages free, and then we will work something out? I'm coming in and the hostages go out? And then we're working on the verdict." Neal just gave it a try.

"How stupid do you think we are dude?" Eddie snapped back and put his hand on the handle of the gun he had stuck in his waistband.

Peter looked up at him. "You wanted me to help you get out of here?" he said to Eddie, even at the risk of getting slapped again. "Then this is now probably the only chance."

Eddie was disturbed by Peter and was about to hit him again.

But Michael stepped in, pointing to the door. "We should give him the time to explain."

"There will be no hostage exchange for now, is that clear?" Eddie said loudly and stretched his back a little.

Peter sighed. That would have been too easy.

"Well, let me in. Don't worry, I'm unarmed...and yes...I will also come in alone," Neal offered them. "You want Mickey as free man, right? Then I am the key to it."

Joey, the youngest, who was still holding the position at the door, looked excitedly to his brothers. "That could be a trap," he warned the two quietly. He might be inexperienced, but still he told them his concerns. If push came to shove, his brothers could fully rely on him.

Michael looked at Peter. "Do you know the man? Can he be trusted?"

Now it was extremely important to respond the correct way. Torn between two options, Peter thought about it. It was always bad when you were vulnerable. And in this case, the fact that they knew each other was a point that made both of them very vulnerable. Too great was the danger that Neal would wind up in the clutches of the kidnappers because they thought they would have the opportunity of an additional way to apply pressure.

Eddie surprisingly answered, when he gave Michael a command. "Go to the judge. If something happens, you kill him." Then he started moving and went to the door. "Don't even dare fool us," he threatened in a raised voice and pointed to Joey to release the lock. "Otherwise, the judge is dead."

Farnsworth stiffened involuntarily, as Michael went towards him and quickly climbed up to him. Under that robe it must be like being in a sauna, and when Jenkins was close to Farnsworth, he realized that beads of sweat that had formed on the judge's forehead were running down his temples. "Hey, what a view," announced Michael. Likewise, he quickly went back to business and sat next to the judge, took the gun and held it dangerously close to his head.

Neal carefully went back and raised his hands as a precaution to show that he was unarmed. Also, the SWAT team moved away as far as possible, but remained close enough to be able to intervene. "I'm not gonna fool you," Neal said with a quiet voice and stepped into the room. He immediately tried as best as he could to analyze the situation."I'm unarmed," he said, a bit annoyed, when someone touched him in order to search for hidden weapons.

Joey, who had shut the door again, held the gun on Neal's head, while Eddie groped him. "Shut up," the youngest sibling said and felt very important. His fingers twitched at the trigger dangerously.

Eddie was pleased, took a step back and looked at the man, "What do you have to say to us?"

"I can make you an offer," Neal replied, sounding nervous. He let his arms down slowly and played with his tie a little bit, acting tense. "As everyone knows, a judge can't take back a verdict...the Governor however can... or a person who has been commissioned by him, can do that."

Peter knew this wasn't quite right, but to be honest he had the impression that the men didn't have a clue on anything. In addition, he believed when Neal just quoted a few laws those three would believe him anyway.

"Ask the Judge, he will confirm it to you," Neal said.

"And? Is that true?" Michael immediately requested to Judge Farnsworth.

"Yes," he nodded slowly.

Even if Peter knew it was a lie, he nodded, too. Of course he knew that Farnsworth was well aware that Neal wasn't the Official representative of the Governor. Usually it would be impossible to get the Governor or his representative at the court in this short amount of time. But maybe luck was on their side and Farnsworth would conclude that Neal was with the SWAT team in order to help them. At least Peter hoped that the judge trusted him and Neal enough to play along.

"Okay then...you take back the verdict now." Eddie saw himself as a winner. Apparently he thought that you just had to apply a little bit of pressure and things were going the way you wanted.

"Well, that's not so easy," Neal shook his head. "The governor needs a sign of your cooperation. This is just like a pardon and that is usually for people who have already spent years in prison. Let the people go, I stay here and sign the release," he offered them. "I guarantee that you get out of here alive," he told them, his voice higher than normal. "This is something special, because normally only criminals who are sentenced for life will get this treatment. This was never done before like we're planning to do with you. We even have to bend the rules a bit, but we'll work something out. You can call yourself a very lucky man."

_"__Holy crap, what nonsense,"_ Peter rolled his eyes and would have laughed out loud, if the situation hadn't been so damn dangerous. But the others seemed to buy the story so far. At least they listened to Neal with interest. Once again, Neal's skills as a storyteller helped him, so much was certain. With a serious face, Peter tried to act reasonably. "You can't ask for more, it doesn't get any better than this," he tried to assure the Jenkins brothers, his voice full of conviction.

"Fair enough," Eddie began, "but no one here goes out before I get what I want." It would be pretty stupid to let the hostages go free until his demands were met. "First you set Mickey free, then the people can go." He was stubborn on this premise. Legs apart, he stood in front of Neal.

"No." Neal shook his head. "The people leave now and I stay here with the judge. He can attest, as I need a witness for it anyway. You no longer need the hostages. Do you think that ...," he took a deep breath, now sounding not at all like himself, "... do you think the SWAT team would hesitate to come in here? Forget the people here...they're not important...no one will be interested in them tomorrow. But when it comes to a judge and the representative of the governor, the situation is completely different."

A politician had been lost with Neal. Peter had to ungrudgingly admit that his friend could promise someone heaven and earth and he didn't flinch while doing it and didn't even blush. Meanwhile, the temperatures continued to rise and it started to get uncomfortable. It would be only a matter of time before people would start to complain, or worse, try to escape, no matter what the cost. The problem here was that Peter was convinced that the Jenkins brothers wouldn't hesitate to use their weapons too. Resolutely, he ventured a try. "How about a compromise? You let go half of the people, Mr. Caffrey signs the agreement, the judge seals it, and then you let the rest go?"

It wasn't a secret that Eddie didn't get along with Peter. "Who asked for your opinion?" he grumbled back, and wasn't pleased with this interference at all.

Neal ignored Eddie's sudden outburst. "Well, I could live with that. The women go first and him as well," said Neal, pointing to Peter. "Then you don't have to worry about him anymore...," he shrugged his shoulders. "Do we have a deal?"

Joey took Eddie to the side. "Doesn't sound bad, what do you think?" Whispering, he added, "That's more than we had in the beginning. It is one thing to storm a bank, to scare off some employees and run away. But to take hostages and to get confronted with a SWAT team is entirely something else."

It took a while before the elder replied. "The women can go. But the Fed remains here. I'm keeping him until the end. I'm not done with him."

Peter knew the reasons, why Eddie didn't want to let him go. Nobody was making fun of him. In addition, Peter was largely responsible for ensuring that Mickey had been convicted. Eddie wanted him to pay for this.

Neal seemed not to like it, but he had no other choice than to accept it. "Okay," he nodded and held out his hand to Eddie. "Then there is a deal, the women can go. I will sign the pardon. The judge will certify it and then the rest are allowed to go. Okay? After you have the pardon, we will walk out of here together. You, the judge and me. Need a car? I can get you one."

Eddie shook his head and grimly said, "I 'm the one making the decisions, got that?" He also didn't care about the handshake. "Listen to me, because I'm only saying this once. The women can go. They are getting on my nerves with the all the whimpering. When they're outside, you get us something to eat and drink. And make sure those fuckin' idiots turn on the damn air conditioner, otherwise I will get uncomfortable. You know what I'm talking about, cop, don't you?" He looked at Peter.

Peter pressed his lips together and then realized the throbbing crack in it. "It would be better to do what he says, Mr. Caffrey," he answered quietly. Each partial victory was better than nothing. And if the women were safe, then that was a great success.

"Okay," Neal nodded and lowered his head, indicating that he was awed. "Then we set the women free...I also have to go out...so...so I can tell the men out there what you want," he said sheepishly. "If that's okay for you?"

"Sure," smirked Eddie. Yes, it was obvious that he liked how he handled this. "You know the drill. So get us what we want."

"Of course," Neal nodded quickly. "Then just tell me exactly what you need... except the air conditioning of course. Ladies...," he said, turning so that he stood with his back to the door. "I beg you to remain calm so that there will be no hassle, okay?" Without letting the women out of sight, he knocked on the door. "We are coming out now. Don't shoot! I repeat: Don't shoot." Satisfied, he nodded, as the five women, although resolved, stood silently in front of him. The anticipation of being able to leave the hall was clearly in their faces. "Okay, let's go." With one hand he opened the door, and then stepped aside until all were out. He nodded slightly at his friend, indicating that he would come back. During their work, they had often agreed without words, and now they benefited once more from this ability.

Relieved, Peter leaned back after the last of the women slipped through the door and the exchange was done without problems. Secretly, he was worried that Eddie could have changed his mind again and the deal would have burst. But now they had saved the lives of five people and he hoped the remaining 8 would follow soon. The glance from Neal towards him from the entrance made him optimistic and sad at the same time. There were so many uncertainties, so that no one could say what the future would hold in store for them.

"Excellent, now those annoying women are gone," Eddie nodded satisfied and turned to Michael. "Bring the judge here." He commanded that the hostages were moved toward the center. This way he had a better overview. "Joey, come here too."

_TBC..._


	6. Chapter 6

**TRUST ME**

**A/N: **Again, many thanks to all of you who took the time to read and leave a review! You are fantastic! Now, let's find out what Eddie has in store for Neal...

**Chapter 6**

Outside, Neal silently watched while the women were led to a separate section by some members of the SWAT team in order to get checked by paramedics. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against the wall, because he wasn't used to such a crisis situation. Usually he was on his own. Now he was responsible for several lives depending on his skills as a negotiator. He had been able to cover up his true feelings most of the time. But right now, he could feel the great tension. Much to his dislike, he saw Jack approaching him.

"What can you tell us?" Jack asked bluntly.

Since there were lives at stake, Neal declined wasting time, especially since he had received a time limit from Eddie. He also resisted the urge to call Elizabeth. After a few seconds, he replied quietly and calmly on the matter. "Three men, as far as I've seen all with .45 caliber. No other obvious weapons."

"Then we could try to storm by surprise," Jack mused aloud.

Neal shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said decidedly. "They are not squeamish and will shoot without hesitation. Especially their leader."

Jones joined them.

"What do you know about the men?" Neal asked him.

Jones opened a file. "Are those the three?" He showed Neal several images.

"Yes."

"The oldest one," Jones tapped the photo of Eddie, "is Edward. Convicted of fraud, burglary, theft, assault. In principle, the whole range. He's only been out for a few months. The youngest, Joseph, was until now fairly unknown. The middle one is Michael. We're still trying to figure out how they could get inside with guns though."

Neal nodded as he tried to gather all the information. You never knew what kind of background knowledge might be helpful. A glance at the clock told him it was time to get started. "Okay...we still have a lot to do. I need food, water and someone has to start the air conditioner."

Jack held up his hands. "Whoa, take it easy, Caffrey. We aren't doing that."

"Yes, we are. 'Cause I've given my word. And because those people are counting on me," Neal made his position clear, while pointing the finger at the doors closed behind him. His voice was low, but it sounded more menacing. "The women are free, and in exchange for that we give them food and drinks. If we deny their wishes now, there is no reason for them to continue cooperating with us. I was able to convince Eddie that I can get Mickey free." Heaven, this couldn't be too hard to understand! But on the other hand... he spoke with Jack Fulton. "We can stop the hostage situation without bloodshed." In order to provide some advantage, he emphasized the "we" in the beginning.

Fulton stepped back and seemed to consider his options, eyes narrowed. "Okay, then to give them their food. Along with a good dose of sleeping pills."

Neal wasn't a violent person. But right now he would have liked to slap Jack so this man came to his senses, but he pulled himself together. "Jack," he began, "they are dangerous. If they see that we try to outwit them, I can't guarantee anything." With a step forward, he closed the gap that Jack had previously created. He placed his hands on his hips. "No sleeping pills." At least, he was the one who stood in the line of fire, in the truest sense of the word, not Jack.

"I still have the final say," growled the SWAT leader, but didn't continue because he was interrupted.

"This conversation is getting us nowhere, and we are running out of precious time. Five people are free due to my negotiation. That's more than you can say." Normally, Neal knew that was a low shot, but he didn't really care with Jack.

The rage that Jack felt was clear to see. Without a word he stepped aside and gave Neal the sign to go on. At least for now.

* * *

Packed with two paper bags Neal entered the courtroom, where the men had been gathered together in the middle of the room. Until now, the mood was still somewhat in control. Given the circumstances and the real stuffy air that could be considered as a miracle.

With a wide grin, Eddie grabbed one paper bag, while Michael accepted the second. "About time, what took so long?" Eddie rummaged through the sandwiches. "When I'm hungry, I can be very uncomfortable."

"It's not that easy," Neal tried to explain and look as sheepish as possible in order to give the impression that he really tried hard to satisfy them. His gaze wandered over the present men who looked at him expectantly. Their lives were in his hands and therefore he wanted to come straight to the point. "Well ...," he rubbed his hands, "...shall we start with the contract?"

The three Jenkins brothers exchanged glances and, as expected, Eddie gave the word, his mouth still full with a bite from the sandwich. "Yeah, sure. The judge is here, we just need a pad and pen," he said, smacking his lips. With a nod, he told Joey to go to the judge's desk and get said utensils. "Go on," he said laconically to Neal as he threw the pen practically at his feet. Leisurely taking a bite of his sandwich and sipping on his beer, he leaned back on the seat. He plainly imagined himself in complete safety.

* * *

"What's going on?" Jones asked, surprised when he saw a sudden movement in the group. So far everything had worked out well, but now his gut feeling set in. With a swift movement, he grabbed a man who ran past him.

"Fulton is preparing to storm the room," the SWAT officer told him and then joined his unit, which gathered at one point.

"What?!" exclaimed the usually composed man. "Why would he do that? The negotiation is still on!"

Fulton came into view."We are going in there now. Caffrey himself has said that there are no further weapons and most of the hostages are also out."

Jones' cheek muscles were working hard as he tried to stay calm. "Most of them, yes, what about the rest? We should wait."

"I don't know when the command was passed to you," he said defiantly. "If you continue to disrupt, you will be taken into custody." Fulton looked at Jones for a few seconds before he managed a nod and then went to his men.

* * *

"What is taking so long?" Eddie shouted towards Neal and Judge Farnsworth.

As so often that day Neal had no idea of what he was doing in his role as an official representative ofthe governor. Intimidated, he looked up from the note pad, looking first at Judge Farnsworth, who was sitting next to him at the table. He could only hope that all present lawyers would play along in their little show. "Um, we do not want to make a mistake. This is supposed to be official document." In fact, he had tried to buy time to develop a good plan.

With the gun in his hand Eddie slowly swaggered around the table and then remained standing behind them. "This better be." With the barrel of the gun, he tapped the pad, turning it so that he could read it. There wasn't much he could make out, because Neal and Farnsworth mostly had used difficult phrases to indicate the importance of this document.

Based on the irritated facial expression Neal could tell that Eddie believed them. He needed the trust of Eddie. After all, that was the basis for Neal's actions. He wanted Eddie to see in him an invaluable ally.

"Go on," he pointed to the two and then went back to his brothers. "Soon we are out of here." Confidently he then headed to the judge's desk, climbed the few stairs and took a big smile on the comfortable leather chair. "Yes, I like that," he nodded complacently. He put his feet up at the table. "What car do you want that brings us to the airport, bro?" He turned to Michael, who looked at him blankly. "What? Do you think I'm going to walk away from here?"

_"__No, you will __either be __handcuffed __or __taken __out __in a body bag__,"_ Neal mused and wiped his face with his shirt sleeve across his face. The air conditioning was working again, but the temperature hadn't changed at all so far.

Unlike his two older brothers Joey didn't take part in the conversation, but let his eyes wander to the large glass windows. Why he didn't know, but something told him that he had to be vigilant. Without a word he went to one of the windows and pulled the blinds apart, just to get scared. "There are sharpshooters on the rooftop of the opposite building!" he exclaimed.

Immediately Eddie and Michael jumped up, their weapons drawn.

Joey scurried to the side of the wall. His pulse rose to record levels, and within seconds he clutched the handle of his gun more firmly.

That caused a lot of commotion and panic among the hostages which were difficult to keep under control.

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" Neal's head went up immediately, looking around. He held up his hands and raised his voice a bit to get their attention while he simultaneously tried to be a role model by appearing calm and collected. "Remain seated and keep calm. This must be a misunderstanding."

Neither Peter nor Neal had expected such turn in the events. Their surprise was well displayed on their faces. Peter tried to see, but couldn't make out much more.

Eddie rushed to Neal and grabbed him by the collar so suddenly, that Neal couldn't react. "YOU! What have you done out there?!" He spat out the words, his eyes were filled with hatred and a vein throbbed visibly on his forehead.

Neal surged to his feet, the chair toppling over behind him. He grabbed the wrists of Eddie, but this had no effect on the force with which the criminal held his shirt collar. For a moment Neal's feet were lifted off the ground. "No-nothing," he stammered, and his stuttering made this scary moment even more authentic.

But Peter knew his friend better and was certain that Neal hadn't had anything to do with this. Before he brought out a word, he had to clear his throat. "Eddie! Eddie," he called and stood up. "Don't do anything stupid now! They need only one reason storm in! You're still in control... think about it. SWAT won't be doing anything to risk the lives of the hostages."

Unnoticed by Peter, Joey had slipped away from the wall and had approached him from behind. He was like an angry animal. Wild and dangerous. "Shut up!" he snapped at him harshly. Without giving the man the opportunity to react, Joey hit the handle of his weapon against Peter's temple, who then collapsed and remained motionless on the ground.

This caused an outcry within the group. Judge Farnsworth stood up. Some time ago he had taken off his robe. "I beg you," he said in a shaky voice, and looked at Eddie, who still had Neal in his grasp. "Please stay calm. We don't want any bloodshed!"

"Yeah, well, too late Mister," Joey teased. With a glance back over his shoulder, he made clear to the audience what he meant. The left side of Peter's face was covered with blood.

Neal had only been able to track the incident from the corner of his eyes, but even so his heart almost stopped when he had to watch helplessly as Peter had been brought to silence in the most brutal way. His heart pounded like crazy and all of a sudden he had a very dry mouth. More than it already was. The fact that the SWAT team hadn't yet stormed in was only because they had to obey certain rules. And one of them said that firearms were allowed only if they could make out a clear goal. Inside Neal's head all the wheels rattled as he tried find a solution. "Listen...," he pleaded, "let the people go. I promise that I will do everything in my power to ensure that you can go out as innocent people."

"Shut up!" Eddie yelled at him and got angrier with every word."You are as dishonest as any other politician!" With a seemingly effortless movement of the hand he pushed Neal back, who almost stumbled over the overturned chair and could only hold his balance with difficulty. Breathing heavily, Eddie pondered the next steps, his eyes still trained on Neal. "Take off the vest," he growled in a deep voice, which made a slight shiver down Neal's spine. Suddenly there was dead silence in the room. Again he threatened Neal. "Vest off. Now." To demonstrate his power, he pulled his gun from his waistband and pointed it at Neal's forehead.

Talking with Eddie was like dancing on a volcano. One wrong move, one wrong word and the outbreak was unstoppable. It was clear to him and now, he had a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time - fear. His eyes wandered briefly. Without wanting to, he had to think of Elizabeth. "Sir...," he made a new attempt while he opened the Velcro of the vest. "We have come very far and I...," he looked around, "... we...will find a solution." At the same time he was looking for an explanation of why Eddie was so keen that he got rid of the vest.

"Oh yes," the man nodded. "I'm sure we will. And I'll tell you how WE," he emphasized the word, "do it." He stretched his back. "You go out there and make clear that they will pull those sharpshooters back. If this doesn't happen within the next 5 minutes, then they get to know me. Got it? Did you understand?"

Neal nodded and let the vest gently glide to the ground. "Absolutely." But he admitted that he had misjudged Eddie, because he hadn't expected such a violent temperament.

After he had regained some composure again, Eddie began to grin. "Well, then you know what I'm talking about. What are you waiting for? Go!" With the appropriate gesture, he told Neal to start moving.

And that's what Neal did - he turned and walked down the aisle without looking back. Someone out there would get to pay for this.

"Oh - and one more thing..."

The voice of Eddie brought him back to reality and forced him to stop and turn around slowly. "Yes?"

"Don't forget about the message."

Neal blinked, frowning. The guy was really a hard nut to crack. "What message?"

Eddie suddenly drew his weapon.

Instinctively Neal raised his hands.

A shot rang through the room.

Neal had almost expected to feel a burning pain, but nothing happened. His attention was immediately directed to someone else. One of the men who was very close to Eddie held his right leg, groaning as blood stained his pants. "What the hell was this about?!" Neal couldn't keep his anger back and was just about to run to the wounded man.

"Hey," Eddie said, and pointed the gun now towards Neal again. "You have heard the message. If I don't get what I want...there will be blood. A lot of it. And now get out of here!"

Completely defenseless, Neal stopped dead in his tracks, waited a moment, took a deep breath and went to the door. He knocked. "Don't shoot! This is Neal. Don't shoot!" As Neal waited with a mixture of anger and uncertainty, he suddenly realized that Eddie was deliberately taking his own death into account, should an overzealous officer now open fire on him. He closed his eyes, but nothing happened. So he looked defiantly at Joey, who stood grinning next to him and now removed the chain again. When he had walked down the aisle he was able to take a quick glimpse at his friend. He couldn't take care of him, since Joey had been following him. The wound didn't look good, was bleeding heavily. Neal hoped that nothing was broken, because that would only make the situation worse even more. He had to find a way to quickly end his. And above all it should be done without any other victims. His gut feeling told him that if there should be a struggle, at least Joey and Eddie would make violent resistance to the last bullet.

_TBC…_


	7. Chapter 7

**TRUST ME**

**A/N: **Wow, thanks again for such great encouragement. Your words mean a lot to me! Now, let's see how Peter's doing…and what else happens.

**Chapter 7**

With a last look at the people in the room, Neal opened the door cautiously and slipped through the small gap to the outside, where he was immediately greeted by Jones.

"Neal, I-" Jones began, but was immediately interrupted by Neal.

"Where is he Jones?"

Jones took a deep breath and just nodded to his left where the SWAT team had disappeared and with them, Fulton.

"I'm going to kill him. With my own hands if it's required," Neal continued walked away, letting Jones just standing where he was.

"Neal, don't do anything irrational." He could understand his friend, but now was the wrong time for revenge.

The moment he heard the voice, Jack sighed. Caffrey had an unerring knack for always appearing at the wrong time. With a nod he indicated that his second in command, with whom he had talked before, should leave them alone. "What do you want?" he asked. "There will be no further concessions," he told him straight away, because he had more important things to do now.

"Concessions? Concessions?!" Neal repeated incredulously. "Have you lost your mind? I have two seriously injured people in the room, three panicky guys with weapons and you tell me about concessions?!" Neal stared at Fulton and breathed hard. "What were you thinking? No, wait, you haven't thought at all. You just couldn't wait, right? You have ruined everything I've worked for. You have put these people's lives unnecessarily at risk and now you have less than 5 minutes to get those sharpshooters down off the roof!" Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair.

"In 5 minutes everything is over," replied Jack and had to control himself very much. He didn't like how Caffrey behaved and treated him harshly. "And now get out of my way."

"In 5 minutes for one of these people life is over, yeah...you're right," Neal replied quietly. "Get your people back; otherwise there will be a bloodbath."

"Gentlemen."

Both turned to the voice.

"Agent Hughes," Neal said, a little taken aback.

"You're the one in charge?" Reese Hughes asked and looked at Fulton.

"Yes, sir, I am," Jack nodded and stretched his back. "Jack Fulton." He held out his hand.

Hughes ignored the offered hand. Instead he showed him his badge. "Special Agent Reese Hughes. What's going on here?" the grey haired man demanded.

"Well sir, we were about to storm the courtroom," he said freely and had a slight smile on his face.

"And that's the worst thing to happen, Agent Hughes. I was in the room and tried to negotiate with the men. The moment the SWAT team storms in, the hostages will be killed. No, let me rephrase that - when the SWAT team doesn't move back within the next," he looked at his watch, "3 minutes the people get killed. All of them," Neal explained and added, "Time is running, Sir."

Hughes thought for a moment. "And you think you can negotiate with them, Caffrey?"

"I was almost finished until a certain someone wanted to flex his muscles," Neal answered him honestly and he was aware that he accused Fulton in public. As long as the people would survive in there, Neal didn't care about Jack.

"That's not true. Caffrey continued to interfere," Jack tried to object.

"I have an unconscious man in the room and one wounded. All thanks to the head of the SWAT team. Reese...if you don't tell the team to move back, we are about to hear the first shots inside and if that happens, we need to call a coroner... "Waiting for a response, Neal involuntary held his breath.

"Okay," Hughes nodded. "Try to restart the negotiations. And in the meantime I would like to be informed what I have missed so far." Every detail could be helpful because there would be an investigation afterwards.

"Sir, if you allow...," Jones said and pointed to Diana, "…we can fill you in."

"Thanks," Neal nodded towards them and quickly vanished to enter the courtroom again.

* * *

"Hey, man...look at this!" Joey was astonished. While he considered what the conversation would bring, he was fascinated as the officials now moved back. "This guy is perhaps not quite as dumb as he looks like. What do you think, Eddie?"

"Hmm, yes," Eddie growled to himself, not turning his gaze from the bullet-proof vest, which he held in his hands and studied it from all angles. "But I still don't trust him."

Michael however, nervously played with his fingers while he paced. It was hard for him to ignore the groans of the man whom Eddie had shot in the leg. The judge and two other men had taken care of the injured man and temporarily stopped the bleeding with a makeshift bandage, which they had made of the judge's robe. Looking at Burke he wasn't sure if this guy was still alive. His attention was directed to the youngest Jenkins who literally stuck to the window and peered through the slats.

"We are on TV. Cool thing." He concentrated on observing the parking lot where several broadcast vans of various television stations already stood. The reporters were standing at some distance from the building, occupied with their statements.

Michael went thoughtfully to Eddie, who had succeeded in putting the vest on. Despite the still prevailing temperatures that additional layer didn't seem to bother him. "We should release the two," Michael murmured softly.

With an unreadable expression Eddie stared at his younger brother. Then his eyes went to the injured one and unconscious man on the floor. "He stays," he said, gesturing to Peter. Joey had done the first strike on the FBI man, Eddie would do the rest.

* * *

With probably the worst hangover in the history of his life, Peter slowly regained consciousness. He couldn't explain at first where he was and what had happened. What irritated him even more was the fact that he believed that he could hear Neal's voice but that didn't quite fit into the picture. Cautiously, he tried to turn his head and at the same time to open his eyes, but he was only rewarded with a pounding headache. "Mmmhmmmmm," he moaned and squeezed his eyelids shut again.

"Sir...Sir, can you open your eyes?" Neal asked cautiously full aware that the Jenkins brothers were in earshot.

In addition, the lawyer still stood in the doorway and looked as if he didn't quite know what to do. The bathroom, which was in the back of the courtroom, was originally intended only for the judge was too small for more than two people. Therefore, the lawyer had been forced to wait in the door frame.

Neal gently dabbed once again the already dried blood away from Peter's temple with a wet towel and waited for a reaction of his friend.

Many things made no sense and certainly not that Neal addressed him with "Sir". On what kind of a crazy trip was he? Again he made an attempt to follow the order of Neal's voice. This time he even managed to open his eyes a little bit, but had to blink when he was blinded by the brightness. "W-what the ...?" he muttered, holding his hand over his eyes instinctively.

Neal could only smile. That was so typical of his friend. "Hey, back among the living?" That was very good. He looked around and was relieved that they were now alone, because the lawyer was gone and the door closed. Nevertheless, Neal had to be on the safe side so that no one got suspicious. "Sir, can you see clearly?" He played along as he stood without taking his eyes from Peter. He went to the door and opened it cautiously. As expected, he stared at the frightened attorney. "He's slowly regaining consciousness," Neal nodded to him, referring to Peter, in case one of the Jenkins brothers wanted to know. "But he needs one more moment." Neal saw Eddie on the other side of the courtroom, who apparently, didn't pay attention, so he closed the door again.

Fragments of Peter's memory came back of what exactly had happened. However, it was also clear that he was on the floor rather than in a hospital bed and that Neal was by his side. This in turn meant that they were still in the hands of the deadly trio. "I think...I'm okay... Mr. Caffrey," he answered slowly, but was not sure if his pronunciation was clear enough. In his head, a small man was raging with a jackhammer in undiminished strength.

"Very well," Neal nodded and let out a breath. With two strides he was back next to Peter and knelt down again. "You have been unconscious for some time...and you have got a laceration to the head," he explained to him at first and couldn't help but to gently lay a hand on his shoulder. "You sure you're okay?" he asked softly.

"I think so," replied Peter, and made the mistake to underline his statement with a nod. He immediately had the feeling that his head was about to explode. Groaning, he was holding his head. After the wave of pain had subsided, he again sought eye contact with Neal, who looked very worried. "Did I miss anything?" he wanted to know after a few seconds.

"Quite a bit," Neal sighed heavily. "Eddie shot a man shortly after Joey knocked you out. Then Eddie threatened to kill people if I couldn't get the SWAT team moved. I think you can imagine that they weren't thrilled at all…and only thanks to Hughes I was allowed to come back. Right now you can't really talk to Eddie. He's also wearing my vest. Negotiations are on ice at the moment and only with a lot of persuasion, I managed to get you in here." It was a lot of information at once, but Neal didn't have much time left. "To be honest, I don't know exactly what to do next."

Peter sighed and closed his eyes. "This will come to no good end." He had been glad to see Neal in the beginning, but now he had to admit that his friend had taken great risk. "You should give them what they want. And get the people out of here."

"The problem is that they currently have no more demands so far...Farnsworth and I couldn't continue working on our letter...," he sighed slightly and dabbed away some blood once more. "I have to try to get you and the other injured man out and ask Eddie if Farnsworth and I should continue to work. You can tell me what you want, but the guy is far more dangerous than I thought. The only normal one seems to be Michael." Neal seemed to be defeated.

"Why lose precious time?" Peter looked at Neal, trying to find a little more comfortable position, without worsening the throbbing pain in his head. "The letter is crap anyway." He grinned slightly. "Excuse me, if I say so." Then he became serious again. "The SWAT team is still there, right? Tell Eddie that the letter is ready and that it is time to let the people go. I will stay here, maybe Eddie agrees to the exchange." It was clear to him that the guy still had a score to settle with him.

"Hey, the letter is great art work, be careful what you say." A grin appeared on Neal's face, before he got serious again. "But I won't let you stay with that freak." He shook his head. "Remember? We leave no one behind." Then he added, "El and Satchmo are waiting for you …"

At the mention of El and Satch Peter was sick at heart and he closed his eyes again. "I blew it, we shouldn't fool ourselves. And I pay the bill. Try to get the others out, at least."

"You haven't screwed up. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. You have fulfilled your duty and testified. The only ones to blame are the Jenkinses." Neal looked at him, smiling. "I'm getting you out of here. I'll owe Jones, Diana and you a coffee. And there's a sandwich waiting for you, too."

"How can you always be so positive?" Peter wanted to know.

"That's the years of training while being in prison," Neal smirked slightly. "You always have to focus on something. And it's much better to focus on the good things in life."

"Well, what else remains for us, huh? I have tickets for a baseball game, two weeks ahead. It would be a shame if they go to waste," Peter replied smoothly, even if he didn't have a good feeling. Neal was right - giving up wasn't an option. Together they had a chance to end this hostage situation. He wouldn't leave any stone unturned to at least help the others.

Shortly after that Neal stepped out the door and took a deep breath. The lawyer had apparently not left and sat on the floor with his back against the outer wall of the rest room. "I think you can go back now," he said, turning to him.

The man stood up awkwardly. "Yes, but...what is...with him... in there?" He asked, frightened.

"Hey, what's going on? Where is the FBI guy?" Eddie shouted across the courtroom.

Neal saw his chance. "He's still in there," he told him. _"Where could he be otherwise, you idiot?"_ He slowly walked up to Eddie. "I wanted to ask if it would be possible that Mr. Burke gets medical treatment? As well as the other man over there." Even if he didn't show it, it was hard for him to remain calm after what had happened. That he had to beg practically on his knees in front of Eddie, was something that Neal had never done before in his life. And he never wanted to do it again.

"No."

"Let me explain the situation," Neal slowly said to make the situation clear to Eddie. "Should someone die, you and your brothers are accused of negligent homicide. And there's no reprieve. Because there is no excuse for something like this." Without really knowing whether his words were listened to, he just kept talking. "But on the other hand... if you allow the two men to get help...then we can mention that in the contract. This has an increasingly positive meaning." Boy, that was really wrong, but it served a good purpose. It would actually be felony murder as part of the kidnapping, but he lied to make it sound better to Eddie. At least Neal hoped so.

Michael had joined them and had heard the last part of the explanation. As before, he was attempting to convince Eddie. "We should do it."

With one hand on the handle of the gun which was hidden in his waistband again, Eddie seemed to think. "That one," he pointed with his chin on the wounded man, "can go. But Mr. FBI stays here. This is my last word. Damn it." With that he ended the discussion.

_"__Again, a __small part of __victory,"_Neal thought to himself, even though he had hoped for more concessions from Eddie. Without further ado Neal went to the door and knocked. "It's Neal. We need paramedics... " He got no further, because Eddie shouted towards him.

"What the fuck you are doin'?"

"The man needs medical care," insisted Neal. "We bring him to the door and then take him to the paramedics." At that point he didn't want to give in. To let an innocent man suffer was something that he wouldn't accept. "I guarantee that no one else goes inside."

Eddie bowed his head. "Alright. I'm tired. The guy can go out, but I want something in return."

Neal put a good face on things."What do you want?"

"No idea, but I'll think about it. But with no return, he stays here."

"Okay, agreed. He can go out, and you get something for it."

_TBC..._


	8. Chapter 8

**TRUST ME**

**A/N: **Another week, another chapter! Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review! I'm happy about all those alerts and followers. It's so nice to know that my story is appreciated. A special thanks to **last1stnding**, whose kind words encouraged me more than once. Now it's time for a little...more action. Well, more or less.

**Chapter 8**

_"__... __Since then,__five hours __have passed.__Eyewitnesses __report that the __forces __were __withdrawn again__. The__ police has __confirmed __that __all the female __hostages __and __most of the __men__ have been released __with __the help of a __negotiator. However, there are __currently __still __at least __three __hostage s__inside the __courtroom...__"__  
_  
Eddie listened only half-heartedly to the lady from news channel on TV. In fact, he was absorbed by the task of putting his shoes on. His old clothes, including the bulletproof vest, were lying in a heap after he had thrown them carelessly on the floor. Now it was only a matter of minutes, until they could leave the building as free men.

About a half hour ago the last exchange had been made - one man against three sets of clothes. Right now only three men were left in the hands of the Jenkins brothers - Judge Farnsworth, Neal and Peter. Neal had been successful in his skillful negotiation and had achieved that the rest of the men were allowed to go. In return, the bothers were now in possession of a television, more food, water and new clothes. The last demand - an SUV - had just been driven into the parking lot, happily noticed by Joey.

That the reporting was so matter of fact and calm was something that Neal was surprised to see. Nevertheless he was thankful for that. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if the media would pass on false information and therefore would irritate Eddie probably even more. He suspected that Hughes had made sure that the media played along. Although the negotiations hadn't gone badly - after all the other hostages were now out of danger - Neal was still not satisfied. The unpredictable mind of his opponent demanded his full attention. He went to Eddie and Joey. "See? He's out. No one harmed him," he noted, pointing to TV screen. Just minutes before, Michael had left the room in order to get to the SUV and now a man waved cheerfully at one of the cameras from some distance. Details were hard to tell. But what Eddie and Joey didn't know was the fact that they were watching a doppelganger acting as Michael. The real Michael had been arrested on the way down to the supposed escape vehicle. Hughes had come up with the plan to switch the men. "When do we get free? You don't have to worry about anything," Neal said.

Peter's gaze went to Neal, who sat opposite to him in a chair at one of the tables. In the last hour he had remained mostly silent thanks to the headache, but also because he was taking no chances. He had let Neal play along. In his hand lay the used towel, dark stains with dried blood on it.

"I'm the one in charge!" Eddie said and straightened up.

Basically, however, Neal had taken the reins in his hand, but none of the three Jenkins brothers had noticed.

"You'll get out soon enough."

"Yes, but...," Neal pressed and raised his arms in the air. "What do you want? You got everything from me. Your brother is a free man, and yet you sit here. I don't understand," he said excitedly, and made a good figure as a desperate politician. "I don't understand," he sighed again, and ran his fingers through his hair. "You're free."

"Yes, but I'm not finished with the Fed. And I don't want to miss it," Eddie said as casually as he would talk about the weather.

With a growl Joey said, "You heard him. And now - shut up," he snapped at Neal and demonstratively put his hand on the handle of the weapon stuck in his waistband, just like he had seen it from his brother.

Quickly Neal noted, "But if you harm him, there will be no mercy for Mickey." After that, he stood up to take a few steps away from the men, only to turn around again and go back. "If you do this, then you'll go to jail and that is surely not your plan." He also wanted to get out. This was getting to his nerves. "Just let us go."

Surprisingly it was Joey who acted before Eddie could respond. Without a warning he grabbed Neal from behind and pulled him close. "I don't care, sissy! I said shut up!" he hissed in Neal's ear.

"Joey! Eddie! You can do with me what you want, but let him out of the game. He has done nothing wrong. Without him you wouldn't have come so far," Peter said, his eyes desperately looking at his partner.

Those words made Neal's stomach turn, because he knew too well what would happen if Peter stayed here alone with these two madmen. Of course, it was clear that Peter wanted the attention of both men and yet those words were like blows to the gut.

"Oh, look who has found his voice again," Joey grinned broadly and loosened his grip on Neal a bit. "And how unselfish he is, what do you think Eddie?"

"Yeah just like a real gentleman," Eddie rubbed his hands and walked over to Peter. "So noble."

Where was the task force when you really needed one? Peter swallowed hard and reached instinctively to the armrest, just as he wanted to get up. The natural flight reflex had made him forget for a moment that in his case an escape was impossible, however.

Joey had taken a step back so he could see better, but his hand remained on Neal's neck.

Neal watched every step closely as Eddie went towards Peter and he thought frantically of what to do next. He couldn't let this lunatic hurt his best friend, but there was little he could do. He knew he wouldn't survive in a battle with the two. He wasn't a fighter.

"Yeah! Show him who's the boss!" Joey grinned broadly and watched Neal who was suddenly quite taciturn.

Neal looked furtively to Peter, who was looking at him as well and raised his eyebrows. They had always been able communicate without words and he hoped that this was still the case.

Peter seemed to freeze. His face was grim.

"Any last words?" Eddie laughed and cracked his knuckles when he was only a few centimeters away from Peter.

The sounds created goose bumps on Neal's arms and he was sure Peter felt the same.

"Only this - you will get your punishment for this," Peter answered defiantly.

With a slight smile Neal nodded unnoticed by the others towards Peter. He knew what he was doing to do was risky, but he had no other option. Not if Peter and he himself wanted to survive.

"Hear! Hear! Big words for a little man," Joey laughed and didn't realize that Neal's hand slowly approached his own.

_" Bigmouth,"_ Neal thought, but outwardly kept cool. With calm confidence he grabbed Joey's hand and turned round the wrist with a firm grasp, which Joey acknowledged with a loud cry. Without wasting time Neal let the handcuffs he had brought in when he had entered the courtroom the last time, snap around Joeys' wrists, reached toward the waistband and then suddenly there was a gun in his hand and a living shield in front of him.

"Hey! Hey! What the fuck?!" Eddie exclaimed in astonishment when he saw that the tables had turned and Joey was in the hands of the man.

Startled, like a deer in the headlights, Joey looked to his brother, because this action came by surprise. "Eddie!"

"I want out!" Neal made clear his position and pointed the gun at Joey's head. "I don't care about your silly game, but I want to get out of here," he repeated his statement again, and did his best so that his hand trembled a little. "You guys are all nuts!"

Eddie was furious. "Let him go now!" he told him harshly, but stopped because he didn't know if Neal was going to pull the trigger. A lay person with a gun in his hand was very dangerous.

"Forget it! I will get out of here, even if I must shoot you!" Neal's voice was deep. "Now we play by my rules!"

Pointing a finger at Neal, Eddie threatened him. "You let him go immediately… or else…"

"Or what, huh?" Neal was unimpressed. "I'm tired of crawling on my knees for scum like you are. Stop this nonsense. Now." Pointing the gun at Eddie, Neal didn't flinch. There was no way back.

After he had recovered from the shock, Eddie grinned. "You dare to threaten me, huh? Okay, let's play." With one smooth motion he put his arm around Peter's neck and pulled him up, simultaneously taking away his breath away and the opportunity to respond verbally.

Peter's hands automatically went up and grabbed the muscular arm that almost choked him. Eddie was stronger than him. Was this the plan Neal had worked out? With wide eyes he looked at his friend, who nevertheless seemed composed after all.

"Either you let Joey go now, or you can clean his brain right from the wall!"

"So what?" Neal immediately countered and cocked his gun. "I don't give a damn what happens to the guy as long as I finally get out of here," he swore loudly, still pointing the barrel to Joey's head. "This will count as self-defense, while you will be back in the hole in a nice orange jumpsuit."

Eddie too cocked the gun squeezing the barrel against Peter's temple. "You have three seconds to put the gun down," he whispered with a dangerous undertone in his voice.

"Shoot him!" Peter sounded a bit tortured.

"Eddie!" The youngest brother spoke up, trying to squirm out of Neal's grip. "Do something!"

"Shoot him!" Peter demanded again. His voice was steady.

Eddie's nerves were raw. To see his brother so helpless made him angry even more. "Let him go!" he yelled loudly without caring for Peter, who, although not floundering like a fish on the hook, wasn't exactly comfortable either. Like a cornered animal, Eddie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, because he had no other way to get his nerves under control. The whole action threatened to get completely out of hand.

Once again, Peter spoke up. "For Heaven's sake, Neal! Pull the trigger! Shoot him! "

Torn between his options, Eddie exchanged looks between Neal and Joey, and then turned back to Peter, adjusting the barrel of the gun against his head. "Shut up! Just. Shut. Up." He spat. "And you," he spoke to Neal, "put the gun down!" Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, showing his nervousness.

"And you have three seconds to get out of here..." All of a sudden, Neal's heart seemed to skip a beat as he had to watch when Eddie did the opposite of what he had been told and strengthened the grip on the weapon. Just like he was about to shoot every second. Even worse though was the fact that Peter sounded as if he had finished with his life already. "I count to three," Neal announced. "One...two ...," he began, and instead of counting on, he sent a little prayer to the sky and pulled the trigger.

_TBC..._


	9. Chapter 9

**TRUST ME**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, like always they are my highlight of the day. You guys are fantastic. Okay, ready to rumble?**

**Chapter 9**

The moment Peter had met Neal's gaze, he knew his friend was up to something. He could feel his fear rising. Not only because of the imminent threat posed by Eddie. No, rather because he had understood what Neal was going to do. And he absolutely didn't like it.

When Eddie approached him, he tried hard not to flinch. Truth be told, he was scared to death. Never before in his life had he been so terrified. Sure, working with Neal wasn't a walk in the park either. Ever since they started working together they had been in more dangerous situations than Peter would have imagined. But today it was different. He was the one in danger. And Neal was the one who desperately tried to save him. Not the other way around.

"Any last words?"

Yes, he had. But those weren't meant for him. There was so much he'd like to say to Neal, yet there was so little time left. "_I __hope you know __what __you're doing__,"_ he tried to tell him silently with his eyes. He thought of Elizabeth, too. Silently he let out a prayer, even if he wasn't religious at all. He just hoped that his friends would be okay. "Only this - you will get your punishment for this."

While he watched the verbal exchange between Eddie and Neal, he was on the edge. There was so much at stake right now. His heart was racing and then - he saw the movement from Neal's hand. Swallowing hard, Peter couldn't help but think that there had to be another way. But deep inside he knew there wasn't.

Being brutally forced to his feet with a strong arm around his throat, Peter's actions were limited to grabbing Eddie's forearm. Almost being suffocated by the man, there wasn't anything he could do but to hang on and wish he would have been able to spend one more day with El. To tell her how much he loved her. To apologize when he had been coming home late almost every evening last week. He was sorry for so much.

"You have three seconds to put the gun down."

"Shoot him!" Peter didn't know where this came from, but he knew one thing for sure - if someone could handle a weapon, it was Neal. He had seen Neal using a weapon before, even if the former con-man always tried to convince him that he hated guns. Joey screamed again, but nothing happened. "Shoot him!" They hadn't much time left so he struggled to free himself a little bit. Doing so he managed to get more air and this time his voice was clear. And so were his words. "For Heaven's sake, Neal! Pull the trigger! Shoot him!" What followed was nothing he had suspected, though.

Eddie shifted, showing his nervousness. This was becoming more and more serious.

Peter could feel his adrenaline rising again, as he felt the barrel of the gun at his temple.

"Shut up! Just. Shut. Up." Eddie spat. "And you," he spoke to Neal, "put the gun down!"

Looking at his friend, Peter breathed heavily and felt his body shivering. Neal's voice was steady, but his hand trembled. Not a good sign.

"And you have three seconds to get out of here..." This time, Neal sounded deadly serious. "I count to three," he announced. "One...two ...,"

The second the bullet hit him, Peter hissed in pain. He was hit in the lower thigh, causing him to crumble down out of Eddie's grasp. After he hit the ground, he instinctively grasped his wounded thigh and gritted his teeth. "Dammit!" he swore loudly.

Eddie was startled when he suddenly lost his shield. It took him a second to react, but then he raised his gun towards Neal. Instantly his head snapped back and he stumbled backwards before his knees gave in and he fell down with a thud.

Unsure what had happened right next to him, Peter opened his eyes. The shot had been deafening, but the silence that followed was just as frightening. Peter tried to move, but not a single muscle seemed to respond. _"Am I __dead?__"_ came to his mind, before the chaos erupted around him. _"__Okay, __I__'m dead __and went straight to __hell.__"_ Lots of unknown voices broke upon him, and he had no idea what was going on. His vision blurred a bit and he felt lost as he watched the scene in front of him.

"Guns down!" One of the SWAT officers shouted while the team ran into the room. Since it wasn't clear whether Neal was still in danger, because Joey was very close to him, the two were taken at gunpoint by three officials.

Neal only took a moment to realize that the whole thing was finally over. "It's all under control," he said and showed the officers the gun in his hand before he pushed Joey roughly in their direction. Convinced that Eddie was out of action, he went as quickly as possible towards Peter and sat down next to him. "Hey, you all right?" He asked anxiously.

"You shot me!" Peter exclaimed, still somewhat shocked. He lay on his left side and looked at his hands clutching around his right thigh, where the blood kept spreading through his fingers. "You just shot me!"

"Yeah, well. That's quite obvious," Neal deadpanned and turned around. "Get the paramedics! He needs medical attention! NOW!" Desperately he fumbled for the towel, which he had previously given Peter in the bathroom and which lay on the floor. Spontaneously he pressed it to the wound. "I was running out of options," he mumbled and looked shyly at his fallen colleague.

Peter jerked and could feel the pain radiating from his wound. "I can't believe it!"

"I'm sorry," he apologized. Since Neal didn't really get an answer, but rather only an incredulous look, he smiled to Peter, and patted him on the shoulder. "No worry, we are out of here in no time," he tried to assure his friend.

"Sir, please step aside," a medic announced and knelt next beside Peter so he could look at the wound. "Seems only to be a flesh wound," he muttered, reaching for a pressure bandage. "We have to take you to the hospital though, sir," he said looking directly at Peter.

The word "hospital" was enough for Peter to confirm his assumption. It wasn't a secret that he didn't like to be in a hospital. So he tried to say that he was okay and he just wanted to go home. But at the same moment he noticed how everything started to turn and it became increasingly darker around him. "What a crappy day," he managed to murmur and then went limp.

This in turn let the paramedics hurry up while they prepared Peter for transport and placed him gently on the gurney.

Neal, however, could only stare at the scene before him, wiping his bloody hands without realizing on his shirt. "What's wrong with him?"

"I think that is a combination of blood loss, dehydration and excitement. Don't worry, sir, we have everything under control," the medic explained quickly before he and his colleague finished the examination.

"O-okay," Neal nodded slightly. "What hospital? Can I come along?"

"You drive with me and tell me what the hell was going on here," Hughes suddenly came forward to speak.

* * *

Completely resolved, even though Hughes had repeatedly assured her that Peter and Neal were fine, Elizabeth followed Diana and wiped away the tears. Hughes had insisted that Diana would drive her to the hospital; otherwise she would probably never have arrived in safety. She was too upset to pay attention on the road. She was also grateful that Diana led the way, because even if they just received the directions from one nurse at the station, she was so upset that she couldn't remember the exact words.

Smiling to Elizabeth to not worry, Diana looked over her shoulder and waited patiently for her friend. "We're almost there," she said to her softly and put her hand encouragingly on the shoulder, as El was standing beside her. "Just down the hall."

After they rounded the corner, El was holding her breath for a second and stood still. She could see Reese Hughes, Jones and Neal sitting in the waiting room, everybody lost in their own thoughts. They seemed to be aware of her presence and turned around. A new wave of shock hit Elizabeth, when she saw the red stains on Neal's shirt and she let out a sigh.

"Are you okay?" Diana asked, concerned.

"No, I'm not okay," Elizabeth answered honestly. "I just want to see Peter."

"Of course." She nodded and together they approached the trio.

Neal waited while Hughes talked with her, and then stood up. Usually he wasn't at a loss for words, but right now he was acting like he couldn't talk at all. So he just stood and bent his head down to study his feet for a few seconds. Startled he looked up when he felt a hand on his arm.

Elizabeth was irritated when she saw the young man so closed-lipped, because that wasn't like him at all. Nevertheless she wanted to know what was going on. "We need to talk. Later," Elizabeth said quietly, although she still was visibly shaken. Now all she could do was to wait for the doctor.

"Okay," was all that Neal came up with.

* * *

Elizabeth went to her apparently sleeping husband and didn't know whether she could embrace him or not. She didn't want to inflict more pain. "Oh, honey," she managed to whisper and was just glad to see him alive. A few minutes ago Dr. Williams had told her that none of the injuries were severe. But still he looked so fragile and pale. There was a nasty cut on his left temple, taped with some butterfly bandages and she could see the bruise already forming on his skin. He was also hooked up on infusions, probably to get some electrolytes back into his system. Under the blanket, his right leg was elevated on a supporting pillow. Her face lit up, when she saw him move. She gently stroked his cheek with her fingers, trying simultaneously to reassure herself that everything was okay, but this wasn't so easy. Before she could do anything about it, she felt the first tears running down her cheeks.

Hearing the voice he loved the most, Peter briefly opened his eyes, blinking at the bright light. At first he had difficulties focusing her but when El took his hand in hers, he seemed to relax a bit. A deep sigh escaped him and he had to swallow. "El," he said quietly, and held her hand like his life was depending on it. When he saw her weeping eyes, he managed to create something like a smile and patted her hand. It took him some effort to lift his other hand to touch her cheek in order to wipe away the tears. "Don't cry. I'm fine," he whispered.

"I've almost gone crazy with fear," she said, kissing the back of his hand, because she had noticed his busted lip. Together with the laceration on his forehead and the wounded leg, she had serious doubts about Peter's statement. Gently she took his face in her hands and applied a kiss on his uninjured side of the face. Both went silent for a moment, just enjoying each other's presence.

Obviously trying to calm his wife, Peter repeated, "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"What happened? Are you in pain?" The questions rattled along before she could stop herself.

"I don't know exactly what happened. And I think it would be easier to list the places on my body that don't hurt."

"Oh hon," El sighed heavily again and caressed his cheek. She still hoped this was a nightmare from which she would wake up anytime soon.

"What time is it?" he asked softly.

This question surprised El because she had no idea. Therefore, she had to look at her watch. "It's just after...10 pm."

It took a few moments, before Peter replied, "So I'm missing Sports Center on ESPN tonight, huh? Unbelievable," muttered Peter, and managed a wry smile.

"Yes, you will," El smiled back, knowing what he was referring to. Normally he would be sitting on the couch, beer in hand and fully absorbed by the television at this time. Sighing in relief that he seemed to adjust to the situation, she couldn't restrain herself and let her hand go through his unruly brown hair, which he clearly enjoyed.

Peter tried to find a comfortable sleeping position, but had to abandon this project again. Disgruntled, he began to whine. "Can't I go home?"

Without meaning to, a smile crossed El's face. In some ways, Peter was actually worse than a small child. "No, I think that's a bad idea." She recalled the information that she had received from the doctor before. "You have a concussion and the doctors want you to stay for observation. There's no way they let you go home tonight." When she saw his unhappy face, she added quickly, "It's just one night, I'll pick you up tomorrow and then...we have the day to ourselves." She would call her assistant to jump in for her the rest of the week. The whole time she hadn't broken the physical contact with Peter, who was still holding her hand. It was obvious that it was good for him and helped him to relax because his eyelids were getting heavier. "And now, rest honey," she whispered softly and ran her thumb gently in small circles on the back of his hand.

With his eyes closed but still awake enough to feel their presence, he murmured, "Will you stay there?"

Although Peter couldn't see her, El nodded. "Of course. I'll stay until you are asleep. Promise." It wouldn't take long, since she got no response at all.

* * *

Relieved, but also very tired Elizabeth stepped out of Peter's hospital room about 20 minutes later and saw the team gathered around in the corridor.

"How is he?" Neal stepped forward, now a bit more alert.

"So far, so good," she replied. "He's sleeping right now."

"Uhm, can I...can I talk to you for a minute?" He looked over his shoulder to Hughes and the others.

Elizabeth sensed his insecurity and nodded. "Sure." She gestured to take a few steps down the aisle while she tucked some strands behind her ears.

Neal fumbled with his tie. "Listen, I...," he started and then sighed. "Just tell Peter I'm sorry."

Now she was at a loss for words and her forehead crinkled. Looking in his blue and pleading eyes, she had to swallow. "I don't understand, Neal..."

"I'm under house arrest until the investigation is finished, and I'm not sure if Peter is allowed to talk to me at all."

"Neal, I really don't understand what's going on," El said once more.

"Peter will tell you, I guess. Just...just tell him I'm sorry. Please."

"I will," she answered sincerely, but also very confused. "But why are you under house arrest?"

Neal wasn't able to answer, because Jones stepped close, whispering, "We've got to go, Caffrey."

With a nod, Neal implied that he was ready. After they had made it to the hospital earlier this evening, the anklet had been fixed to his left leg once again.

Jones took him by the arm and went with him towards the exit.

Still puzzled, Elizabeth turned to his husbands' supervisor. "Reese? What's going on? Why is Neal under house arrest?" For all she knew it had been Neal who saved the lives of all the people in that courtroom. When the news channels brought up the hostage situation, she immediately had tried to call Peter, but went straight to the voicemail. It was then when she started to worry after she found out that she couldn't reach Neal either. Several other attempts were also fruitless and she nearly jumped when the telephone rang after what seemed to be an eternity. She had expected Peter to be on the other end, but in fact it was Hughes, telling her about the events in that courtroom. He had told her to stay at home and that he would send someone over to stay with her, since there was nothing she could do at the courtroom. But he also had promised her, that she would be picked up and brought to Peter as soon as he was safe. And he had kept his word.

The older FBI man looked at her with an unpredictable expression on his face. "He's the one who shot Peter."

_TBC_


	10. Chapter 10

**TRUST ME**

A/N: Thank you very much once more for all the wonderful reviews! They are highly appreciated! There's only one chapter left so stay tuned. Today, let's find out how Peter and El are dealing with Neal and what he has done.

**Chapter 10**

Almost four days had passed and still no word from Peter. Or Elizabeth.

Had something happened to Peter? Or worse, did he die?

That would surely explain why El wasn't talking to him anymore. She was grieving her husband's death and blamed him for that.

Neal stood at the balcony on this Friday evening and watched the people passing by down on the streets without actually paying attention. But he didn't care about what was going on around him. His thoughts circled around the events that had taken place earlier this week. Hughes had told him to stay at home, giving him house-arrest as long as the investigation would last. The words from Hughes had been clear - no visitors, no phone calls, no computer, no emails, no nothing. So Neal stayed put. He had expected to be interviewed at least once. After all he had killed a man. Although it had been in self defense and in order to save Peter's life. But still…nobody had spoken to him. Nobody had taken him to the FBI building either. He didn't even know if his attendance at the office was desired at all. But he didn't want to break the rules of his grounding, not knowing what his insubordination might bring. Nevertheless he grew frustrated with every minute passing. The insecurity was killing him.

Maybe he had screwed up this time.

Maybe?

He surely had.

There wasn't a doubt on that.

You don't bite the hand that feeds you.

No, instead you shoot the man who tries to change your life.

Sighing, he went inside strolling to the bookshelf. For the last four days he had tried to occupy his mind by reading or painting. But he hadn't been able to focus. Neither had he been able to sleep, nor eat properly. Every time he closed his eyes the terrible events from the courtroom came to his mind. This whole thing was driving him crazy!

What if he just stepped out of June's house? Being chased by the marshals would be quite entertaining.

Being put back into prison would be not so nice.

He let his eyes wander at the countless books and trying to decide what to read. When he heard a soft knock on the door, he almost jumped.

Did they come to get him? Knocking on the door?

On a Friday evening?

Unlikely for federal agents. But still…

Not caring about his disheveled appearance, he walked to the door, but hesitated shortly before he opened it. Baffled, he took a step back and couldn't believe his eyes. "El?"

"I take it you didn't expect me showing up?" She smiled briefly, but other than that looked a bit stressed.

"N-not really." To say he was surprised would have been an understatement. He was totally surprised. Many questions popped up in his head. _Why did she come here? Had something happened? What about Peter?_ After a few seconds, he spoke again. "Are you allowed to be here?"

As if she had expected something like that, El shook her head. "Don't worry. I'm not doing anything illegal."

Not completely satisfied, Neal recalled his good manners and stepped aside. "Do you want to come in then?" Only now he noticed the stunning blue dress that El was wearing.

"No, actually I wanted to talk to you. June called me. She's worried about you. You won't go downstairs, and won't touch the meals she's bringing you." Still standing in the door frame, El watched him closely. "And honestly, I don't think she exaggerated. No offense, but you look terrible."

Without thinking, Neal touched his unshaven cheeks. Indeed the stubbles were longer than usual. "I wasn't in the mood to shave plus I don't think it was necessary at all, being tied to this apartment."

"Maybe I can change that 'being tied to this apartment'-part," El answered.

"I doubt you can," Neal replied, disgruntled, and immediately regretted his harsh tone. She of all people wasn't responsible for this. "I'm sorry El, I didn't want to…"

Elizabeth shook her head, not a bit resentful. "It's okay, I don't mind at all." Not waiting for a response, she spoke again. "Would you like to go out and grab something to eat?"

Neal didn't understand and crinkled his forehead. "El," he sighed, "I'm not allowed to leave. I'm…grounded." Funny, as a teenager this hadn't been a reason to stay in his room at all. "Didn't Hughes tell you?"

"I know about that. But I'm only saying what I've been told," she shrugged her shoulders. "And now…get dressed. I don't think you want to show up with jogging pants and a sweater." Although it was quite amazing, seeing Neal in casual clothes.

Peter's voice echoed up to them. "What's taking so long?"

The voice of his friend startled Neal and he stepped beside Elizabeth, looking down at the entrance area. "Peter? You're here?" In an instant, most of the sorrows had been wiped away. Peter was alive! Nevertheless, he refused to leave the apartment not knowing what was going on.

"Yes. Yes, I'm here," he answered, sounding a bit grumpy. "C'mon, buddy. I'm not going to spend the rest of the evening waiting for you. Let's go. I'm starving."

"But...?"

"I'm afraid Neal won't leave the house, honey," Elizabeth said, turning towards the stairs where she could see June and Peter waiting. Her husband was supposed to wait at the car; however he had entered the house and was leaning on his crutches, looking up to her impatiently.

"Neal! If you're not ready in ten minutes, I'll have El drag you down that stairs by your ears. Now, get dressed. Do I have to repeat myself?"

El couldn't hold back a smile when she saw the incredulous face of Neal. "Sorry," she whispered and leaned towards him. "Peter's not himself when he's sick."

* * *

After some time Neal appeared with combed hair, clean shaved, wearing all black jeans and button down shirt, but still confused and also a bit reserved. Slowly he went downstairs to where June, El and Peter sat. Stepping closer, he studied Peter. He was wearing khaki pants and a blue polo shirt. The gash seemed less ugly and the bruise on the temple had changed its color, now showing different shades of purple. Seeing the crutches leaning against the chair it came to his mind that the bullet had made greater damage than he had intended to. "How's the leg?" he asked ruefully.

Peter sighed. "Annoying."

Regardless to these facts, Peter seemed to be fine. "You look good, though."

"You've looked better," Peter stated.

Neal shrugged his shoulders, not replying to the statement. He had no idea what Peter was up to. And why he had to change his clothes. "Listen, I understand that you are angry at me and I just want to apol-"

Shaking his head, Peter interrupted him. "Don't do it."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't apologize."

"But, I..."

"Neal, if anyone has to apologize, then it's me for not getting in contact with you sooner," Peter explained. "Actually we stopped by to invite you. I'm hungry and that's why we're heading to town. So would you please join my wife and me?" Peter asked with a mischievous grin.

Blinking, Neal didn't know what to say. Peter apparently had something in store for him and this was straining his nerves.

"You can even pick the restaurant. The bill is on us," Peter added.

"Should I consider this evening as my last night as a free man? Are you offering me my last meal so to speak? Am I going back to prison?" It wouldn't surprise him, since he killed a man. Despite his current mood, he decided to play along and would pick the restaurant. He would even pay for his meal, not that he was hungry anyway. But this way he made sure that Peter and El at least would have an outstanding dinner because Neal knew that his partner would never ever go to this exclusive restaurant under normal circumstances.

Peter sucked in the air when he struggled to get to his feet. El was immediately on his side, but Peter shook his head and grabbed for the crutches. "I'm fine," he said quietly before he turned to Neal again. "Let's talk about that while at dinner, okay?" Carefully he took a step forward trying to reduce the weight on his injured leg. "So, where do we go?"

The ride across the town had been rather quiet, except for one phone call from Neal to reserve a table, which hadn't been easy, due to the relatively short time span. But in the end, Neal had succeeded. The moment Elizabeth parked near the chosen restaurant Peter was aware of a very expensive evening and his hope for a less pricey diner had vanished into thin air. He looked at his wife and scowled. At least the former con-man certainly would enjoy the horrified face from Peter after the check would be presented. When the passenger door opened, he was surprised to see Neal standing beside him, offering him a helping hand. He accepted it and winced slightly after he put weight on his injured leg. Thankfully he took the crutches although he would celebrate the day he could get rid of them. "Eleven Madison Park, huh? You sure know how to ruin a poor civil servant," he said while the three of them slowly made their way to the entrance.

"Hey, I'm only following orders," Neal said half-heartedly, flashing a quick smile towards El. Referring to her words earlier this evening he added, muttering, "You seem to be giving a lot of them quite recently."

Peter looked at his friend and frowned, because he had noticed the sad smile. He could tell that Neal tried to put on a facade since that smile hadn't reached his eyes. "I guess that's the FBI man inside me," he joked to lighten up the mood a bit, but still he had the feeling that Neal felt uneasy being with him.

After they had settled on the table and had placed their orders, Peter cleared his throat and reached for the glass. "I think it's time for a toast."

Smiling, El held up hers and looked at her husband. This evening meant a lot to Peter and she could see it in his face.

_"The moment of truth," _Neal thought wryly and took his glass, too.

"Neal," Peter began and sounded deadly serious. "I want to thank you for saving my life. I know you didn't have to go in there, and yet you volunteered. And risked your own life. Believe me when I say that I don't take that for granted." He let the words sink in.

"I don't know what to say," Neal admitted shyly. To be honest that statement was the last thing he had suspected to hear from Peter. "Back then all that mattered to me was to get you and the others out." Then he shrugged with his shoulders, trying to act nonchalantly. "I didn't do anything special. You told me once that you considered me as a partner. My only intention was to help my partner. My friend."

Now Peter had to swallow. Nodding he clinked glasses with Neal and El. "And I'm very proud to have you as a friend. Thanks for everything you did in there."

"Yes Neal, thank you very much," Elizabeth spoke gently to him, her eyes glistering as she tapped his forearm slightly. They put the glasses down after each of them took a sip.

Again, Neal felt uneasy. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. Usually he got a speech after he had done something wrong. But this was fairly new to him. He smiled nervously. "You're welcome," he answered truthfully. "I'm sorry that you got hurt, though. And I wished there would have been some other way to end it." With a guilty look, he lowered his head.

"Don't blame yourself, Neal," Peter shook his head. "You did nothing wrong."

Neal's head went up again not fully convinced. "Then why I'm still having the feeling that you are mad at me? You didn't even call me! You left me in the dark for almost 4 days."

"I'm not angry at you and I'm truly sorry that I didn't talk to you sooner, but I had many things to take care of. Including lots of paperwork and on top of that I couldn't stop worrying about you after June had called us."

"I'm fine," Neal just stated.

"Judging by the dark circles under your eyes, the sunken cheeks and your hanging shoulders I would assume something else," Peter said. "Are you having nightmares?"

"There's no need to worry, I'm fine." Sometimes he forgot that Peter was almost as good at reading people as he was. And that was frightening.

"Don't tell me you're fine. Because you are not," Peter insisted. "And therefore I've made an appointment with the department psychiatrist."

Nobody spoke and the eerie silence put goose bumps on Elizabeth arms. She hadn't talked with Peter about that yet and she eyed the two men cautiously.

Neal frowned. "No way!" he said firmly and shook his head. "I won't go the shrink."

"It's not a request, it's a direct command," Peter answered quietly. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm coming with you. The bureau wants confirmation that you," he stopped and corrected himself, "that WE are capable to work again."

Silently exchanging looks between Peter and El, Neal weighted his options. "Seriously?" He couldn't suppress a smirk. "You have to go to the shrink, too?" This was starting to get interesting.

"Believe me, I don't want it either, but there's no other way," Peter grinned slightly before he added, "Although I think it's very important to talk to someone professional about what happened. It's not good to deal with this on your own. Let me help you in return."

Leaning back , Neal let out a deep breath. Once again he didn't know how to react and shifted uneasy on his chair.

Peter seemed to sense Neal's mood and leaned a bit forward. "You know, that everything you'll say to him will stay in that room."

"It's not about that," Neal answered slowly. "I just didn't expect that. I mean, I'm a convicted felon. It's not supposed to work like this. I spent the last 4 days and nights trying to figure out my future. And I certainly didn't think about going to a shrink." He paused. "I was sure I'm going back to prison for what I did."

"Why would you be sent back to prison for saving the lives of innocent people?" Peter asked in return.

"I killed a man," was the simple reply from Neal and each word felt like a huge weight on his shoulders. Quietly he added, "And I've shot you."

"That's right. And I'm truly sorry that I put you in that position. I shouldn't have let that happen to you," Peter said and the sadness in his voice was clearly audible.

"You couldn't have stopped it, Peter. There was nothing you could have done any different," Neal shook his head. "It's completely my fault."

El eyed the two men cautiously and put her hand on top of Neal's. "Nobody blames you, Neal."

"I still should have stopped it. I should have...," he sighed and looked down. Talking about the incident was hard for him.

"Thinking like that is wrong," Peter insisted. "You know that there was nothing you could have done."

Neal remained silent.

Peter raised his eyebrow, but wasn't put off by Neal's reaction. "All the people who were involved testified in your favor. And so did I. Michael and Joey are convicted. Joey told us that Eddie had threatened one member of the cleaning company to smuggle the guns in. You acted in self defense. Case closed. It's official. You are cleared. In fact, Reese will even get you a commendation."

"A commendation? Wow. How thrilling," Neal answered, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Again, El cut in. "You know, I think there's indeed someone who blames you. But this someone isn't able to see that he's wrong with his opinion. He isn't able to forgive himself - even when everybody around him tells him to do so." She took another pause while she studied Neal's face. "Do you realize that this someone is you?"

Neal sighed again and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were glistening with tears. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest. "It's not that easy," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. He took back his hand, placing both onto his lap.

"Of course it isn't," she answered. "But punishing yourself isn't the right way. You have friends who care about you. You have us. We don't want you to suffer anymore."

Peter nodded. "I'm not saying that you'll ever forget what happened. But don't let it haunt you for the rest of your life."

Surely Peter spoke from experience, but Neal still refused to look at both of them. His thoughts buzzed around in his head. It was like running in circles Neal realized suddenly. His problem was that he never had been in such a situation before. He had been threatened, beaten, kidnapped, had faced the barrel of a gun more than once. But he never ever had to kill someone. He's never been a gun guy. Now he had to deal with the consequences, but he wasn't familiar with that. Finally he glanced at Peter. "And how I'm supposed to manage that?"

"By getting professional help," Peter smiled slightly, trying to encourage him.

It took some time for Neal to respond, but then he asked: "So...when do we start?"

_TBC_


	11. Chapter 11

**TRUST ME**

A/N: Well, that's it! Today I'm gonna post the last chapter. It was an incredible time and I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing. It was good to know about your support, your thoughts and your opinions. It helped me enormously and confirmed me in so many ways!

Many thanks again to my fantastic beta _Rainey13._ You're one of a kind! Thanks for everything!

**Chapter 11**

"Peter, I don't think that's a good idea," Neal frowned while they slowly made their way through the crowd.

"Are you joking? I think that's a fabulous idea," Peter objected. It was obvious that he completely enjoyed the moment.

"Just because it's your idea it doesn't have to be a good one."

Hearing that, Peter stopped and leaned heavily on his cane. "Relax," he just grinned. "We'll have a good time, trust me." Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes, taking every scent of his surroundings. After a moment he opened them again. "There's no way that you can ruin my anticipation. I've been waiting for this day too long." He pointed to a certain area and limped slowly forward. "Over there. Come on."

"You're enjoying this way too much," Neal grumbled but followed him.

Once Peter had reached his destination, he leaned the cane to one side and let his eyes wander around. Boy, he just loved this place! "Aah, there's no better place to be," he exclaimed with a big grin on his face before he slowly sat down.

"I beg to differ," Neal objected, still standing. "I can think of at least ten better places. The Guggenheim, the MoMA, the Metropolitan Museum of Art…," he quickly rattled off.

Peter's grin didn't vanish, because he already knew Neal wasn't pleased with this situation at all. But he didn't care. "Nothing you'll say or do can change my mood," he shook his head firmly.

"Have you consumed too many pain meds this morning?" Neal asked scornfully and grabbed his ringing cell phone. "Caffrey." He listened and grinned as he walked away. "He's way too cheerful, El. That's scaring me…" After a few moments, he answered, "No need to worry, I don't mind. In fact, I'm enjoying this too." Nodding, he continued, "Yeah, thanks, I will. See you." Standing a few feet away, he watched Peter who looked like a kid in a candy store. "Hey Peter, I'll get us something to eat, okay?" Not waiting for a response, he went for the nearest hot dog cart.

"Oh, this day is gonna be perfect," Peter rejoiced at the sight of his friend balancing the food and two cokes.

Neal took the seat next to Peter, handing him his share and not believing his eyes. "You know, I should have been suspicious when you called me to get to your house on a Saturday afternoon. And that you recommended wearing jeans and t-shirt was just the icing on the cake, I guess. But still I didn't get it. Not until you stepped out of your house wearing a Yankees t-shirt and a Yankees baseball cap," Neal said while he unwrapped the hot dog. "Those things gave it right away."

"Hey, I told you a while ago that I have those tickets," Peter smirked.

"Yeah, but I thought you would like to go to the game with some friend of yours."

Peter turned around. "You ARE my friend."

"That's not what I meant, but thanks anyway." Neal leaned back. "I didn't think that you would ever invite me. Not that I would be angry about it. I mean, it's…I simply didn't expect it."

"Well, then you'd better start believing, buddy." He took a sip of the coke and looked at Neal. He was well aware that the ex con man wasn't into sports. But, like Neal had said once, 'one could hope'.

"You're just doing this to torture me," Neal frowned. "Like you did when you punished me with gardening last weekend. Or washing your car. Or walking the dog. Which by the way wasn't that bad, though. Did you know that women like handsome men with dogs? Amazing," he added then said to Peter with an accusing look. "And don't tell me your leg hurts oh so much. You seem perfectly fine when I'm not around."

Peter held his heart in mock surrender. "Are you stalking me?"

"No. I wouldn't do that."

"But Mozzie would."

"You are paranoid, Peter."

"Wait a second," Peter furrowed his brow while he weighed his options. "Did El talk to you?" It seemed not too offbeat, because he knew El was worried that he overestimated his current health status. And he was pretty sure his wife was the one who had called Neal just minutes before, asking how he was. "Are you thinking that I'm gonna let you pay for shooting me?"

Shrugging his shoulders Neal answered, "I admit that thought crossed my mind."

"And why's that?"

"Maybe because you dragged me to this game against my will?"

"I'm not dragging you," Peter huffed. "I've invited you."

"Yeah, sure."

"How can one possibly hate baseball?"

"I'm not saying that I hate baseball," Neal countered. "It's just…," he looked at Peter obviously trying not to annoy him, "I'm more into football."

Peter almost choked on his coke. "F-football?"

"What?" Neal sounded amused, showing a surprised face. "What's wrong with football?"

"There's nothing wrong with football. It's just…," Peter was looking for the right words, still somewhat stunned. "…YOU? "

Swallowing his bite, Neal seemed to think. "I loved playing and I still love the game," he stated simply.

Neal was always good for a surprise and Peter realized that he still had some blanks to fill from Neal's missing years. So he gave it a try. "Senior year?"

"Yes, until I dropped out of High School."

Peter nodded and grinned mischievously. "So…next time…Giants?"

"Why not?"

"Sounds like a plan," Peter smiled and leaned back. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. "So…how's the therapy going?"

Not liking the change of the subject, Neal sighed. "Oh, she's really nice," he said smiling.

"She?"

"Don't you have the same one?" Neal tried to sound innocent and flashed a smile.

"Apparently not," Peter growled. "And don't smile at me like that. It's not working." He thought for a moment. "Why do you always get the girls?" Not that he was surprised at all.

Neal held up his hands in defeat. "Hey! You're the one who made the appointments. I had nothing to do with it," he grinned broadly.

"What's her name?"

"Why is that so important?"

Peter squinted his eyes. There was definitely something wrong. He could tell it by the sound of Neal's voice. "Her name, Neal," he insisted.

"Dr. Tarr. Ashley Tarr."

"You were supposed to talk with Dr. Harrison Russell. What did you do?"

"Nothing?"

"Neal…"

"Okay. It might be that I - accidently of course - switched the schedules of her and Russell while talking to the receptionist."

Not believing what he just heard, Peter sighed, closed his eyes and held the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "And why would you do that? Care to explain?"

There was a pause and Neal seemed to be uncomfortable. He licked his lips and took a deep breath before answering. "Honestly?"

"I would appreciate it," Peter said quietly. His gut feeling told him that there was more behind it so he patiently waited for Neal to response.

"Because first I didn't want to go. And since my charms work better on women, I chose her. I thought I would be able to sweet talk my way out of these sessions…you know…flirting with her… use my gorgeous smile, the puppy eyes. That kind of stuff. But somehow she…," he shrugged his shoulders, "…she got into me and I stayed. We talked for what seemed an eternity and I guess it might work."

"I'm glad to hear it," Peter exhaled and relaxed. Talking with Neal about his true feelings was never an easy task and therefore he was thankful that Neal trusted him. "And I'm glad you chose to stay." Knowing that Neal really had to deal with his demons, he would make sure that his friend continued his meetings with the psychiatrist.

"So am I." There was another pause.

"But let's not talk about the sessions today. We're here to enjoy the game, aren't we?"

"Right," Neal nodded and looked at Peter, winking at him. "Thanks for dragging me here. At least I got the chance to drive the car this time."

"You're welcome, buddy. But don't overuse your luck," Peter chuckled knowing that Neal had wanted to drive the Ford ever since they met. "I'm cleared to get back to work next week. So you better behave."

"I bet you had that line right on the tip of your tongue, right?"

"Yep." Peter took another sip.

"You sound like I'm a bad boy," Neal grinned.

"Well, what can I say? You're a convicted felon, so one can assume that you are indeed a bad boy!"

"Once again I want take the opportunity to point out that I'm a former con man. I try my best to change. You know…being an important part of human society. That kind of stuff."

"Which I am thankful for. Makes my life easier. And I'm proud having you as my friend." It was simple statement but both men knew the meaning behind it. He patted Neal's shoulder.

Not saying a word, Neal had to swallow and he looked at Peter for a moment. Then he nodded, "Me too." Clearing his throat, he broke the eye contact before he stood up. "I think I'll get us some ice cream. The game's starting any moment so chances are good that there will be fewer people in line."

"Oh, wait, I'll give you the money…," Peter cut in and reached for his wallet.

"Don't worry about that. That one is on me." He turned to leave. After a few steps, he turned around, stepping towards Peter and saying, "Thanks for having my back. I know you having a hard time with the investigation going on about the hostage incident and I -"

"Neal," Peter shook his head, "there was no need to have your back. We've already talked about the case, right?" A smile appeared on his face. "And I'll always have your back, no matter what."

Grinning, Neal nodded and took a few steps, then hesitated and turned around. "And thanks, for the back-up. I'll keep that in mind. Just…in…case, you know," he winked at him and went to get the ice-cream.

Peter was still smiling as he watched Neal made his way through the crowds. They had started as an FBI man working with a con man. Then they claimed to be partners. And now…they were friends. No, more than that. They were family. Looking back he wouldn't change a single thing. Sure, they had their ups and downs in the past. But he believed that everything had happened for a reason. Also he strongly believed that Neal had changed for good.

And he certainly wouldn't complain about that.

**THE END**


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